A trip down to memory house
by quirky-but-kewl90
Summary: When Lily makes a terrible mistake, James and Sirius strike up a plan to go back in time and let her rectify it....most unfortunately they end up in Grimmauld Place circa 7th book and meet Harry and the gang. Love, tears, tumult and...death ensue.
1. A pumpkin juiced letter and a pledge

Hey! New story! (dances) Plz r+r! this is the first of many chappies so stay posted if u like it! i no the title is bit weird right now but it'll all straighten itself out!I really heart l+j fics n this is my first, so if u have any suggestions or comments, review! i dare you! hahaha enjoy children! xoxoxox

(disclaimer: these characters are all from the the wonderful mind of jk! i do not own anything related to harry potter in any lil way except perhaps a stuffed Hedwid doll)

**A trip down to memory house**

**Love can vanquish death - Alfred, Lord Tennyson**

Lily gripped the letter tightly in her hand. It was already stained with sweat and a fair amount of her evening pumpkin juice from last night...but no tears. Strange. She stared unseeingly at the neat cursive slant of her mother's writing. How she had managed to write this letter with such a steady hand Lilly could not understand.

The roses Jeremy had left her marking their 2 week anniversary had been tossed unceremoniously a few feet from the window sill she was perched on. He's her boyfriend and he has not even bothered to investigate her glaring absence from breakfast this morning. She had not even been able to mustered enough reason to get out of her pyjamas.

Lowering the damp letter, she pressed her forehead against the high mullioned window in front of which she was sitting . A crisp white late-morning light filtered in through it. It was the most glorious winter's day. Her eyes swept the snow covered Hogwarts grounds. The lake was nothing more than a large sweeping expanse of white icy snow, sporting a few laughing ice-skating students, brimful of holiday cheers. The sprawling beech and pine trees that dotted the landscape were painted lightly with the dazzling fresh morning frost, their far-reaching branches stripped of leaves, glistening snow in its place. Outside was a winter wonderland.

Lily directly her wand at the empty fire grate and a second later rosy glowing flames were crackling cheerfully, spreading a comforting warm light snugly about the room. She rubbed her hands together and blew into them. For a moment Lily thought of simply casting the letter into the fire and joining in her friends down in Hogsmead, but for some reason her heart cramped painfully at the thought, so she remained huddled against the window, her feet curled morosely beneath herself to sheild her bare feet from the cold, her breath casting a misty fog onto the window's icy glass beneath her cheek.

"Well well well. My, aren't we forlorn today! Is this your new fashion statement Evans? Pjs all year round?" exclaimed a loud voice from the Gryffindore common room portrait hole.

Lily groaned and stared hard out of the window at nothing in particular. She heard footsteps and stared harder. To her utter annoyance, he went and plonked himself down on the window ledge as well, a broad grin bounding about on his face.

"Not talking? Or has sullenness become the new snootiness?"

Lily stiffly ignored him...intruding so violently upon her depressed musings. Gosh, the nerve of him!...she sighed and pressed her face harder against the freezing glass.

James said nothing. He twiddled his thumbs in an annoyingly jubilant manner whilst glancing side-ways at Lily. Sirius and Remus had decided, in a fit of rebellious and Christmas spirit, to stock up on Zonko's products to see them all through until the New Year, and James had been shirty with Peter ever since he had snitched to Professor McGonnagall about who had glued upright Knarl spines to the seat of Professor Zinibak's staff table chair. So, he had told Peter to meet him in the Quidditch Captain's Personal Luxurious Office on the 7th floor. As no such room existed, and Peter had rather short legs and the 7th floor was immensely huge, he was ensured quite a few hours to himself.

"So. What's troubling you?You don't seem at all like your perky ol'self or you'dve ferociously cornered me with a sharp object by now."

Lily breathed in to calm herself, her eyes scrunched in the direction of her feet in what she hoped was an expression that conveyed annoyance beyond usual realms.

"Potter, just because I might have a problem doesn't mean I must share it with the rest of the world!"

"Yeah, but you might just wanna. My ears are present for your use." He cupped one of his ears and leant helpfully towards her.

"Thanks but no thanks."

"What? Don't you trust me?"

She knotted her hands in her lap and finally looked at him. His crooked smirk was in place again.

"It's just...I don't...know you." Her voice petered out as she returned her gaze to her benumbed bare feet again.

"Well, let me help get you up to speed." there was a bite of laughter in his voice which cut open Lily's anger. Did he ever take anything seriously? "My name is James Potter, and I'm an Aquarius vegetarian, and I enjo-"

" Haha Potter!" she snapped, her fierce green eyes locking onto his. "Oh so typical. Something dreadful has happened and you make another bad joke. Gosh!"

He looked momentarily stunned, but rallied in a remarkably short amount of time. Perhaps this was a display of the hard skin he had developed from insults thrown by irate teachers.

"Well, I've at least got it out of you that something's wrong! As for not knowing me...We've been in the same house for 6 years! Ok, we haven't talked that often as it's mostly been insults, snappy retorts, and pledges of undying love." He flicked his dark hair out of his eyes in a mockingly suggestive fashion.

Lily smiled. "Yeah, unrequited undying love."

James hitched on a scandalised face and inched away from her as though burnt. " Ooh, snap!" he laughed. "You've got some life left in you yet! So, do you want to tell me the real reason you're blue? Er...metaphorically, that is. Not physically. Haha."

She took her time in replying, folding her legs more comfortably beneath herself as she pulled apart her reasons for not telling him the grim news...

"It's not that I don't want to talk about it. I do. This silence is gnawing at me. I just..." She pulled at her dark red hair in frustration. James watched her graceful fingers work through the burgundy locks wordlessly. No other girl he had ever met had hair quite like Lily Evans. "You just...have such a great life! You're rich, you have a loving family...You have absolutely nothing to complain about! You were born under a lucky star!"

James let out a great whoop of laughter and slid off the window sill to pace before Lily. He knew her next statement would be worth a comical greeting and wanted to have full unimpeded use of his limbs for effect.

"You do!" said an abashed Lily. "I've seen you! Every Christmas your older brother comes up to the school. He plucks you from the common room and you spend a leisurely afternoon strolling lazily by the lake and laughing."

James had stopped pacing. Then all of a sudden he seemed to deflate: his shoulders slumped, his head bowed towards his chest and even his hair drooped dejectedly. Then he swivelled his head around the common room as to make quite certain they were alone. When he had found the empty room to his standard, he shot Lily a piercingly powerful look. "And how old to you think he is?" he asked in a strangely strangled voice.

Lily blinked. Why were they playing guessing games about James' brother's age? James was still staring at her directly in the eyes: a harsh yet sad look that made some part in the black depths of her stomach ache. "I'm not sure" she stammered, embarrassed by the intensity of his gaze. "25?"

"No." He smiled an oddly humourless smile, and turned his back on her to face the blazing fire, hands on the back of an armchair. "He's 34. And he's not my brother." His hands tightened their grip convulsively on the back of the armchair. "He's my father."

There was an awful silence, broken only by the merry crackling of the fire . "My parents had me at 17. I was an accident, never meant to be."

Lily's mouth had become stuck. She gulped helplessly at James' back for a few seconds then lapsed into the horribly loud silence again.

When James spoke again, his voice broke with some hidden emotion, his back still to Lily. "I never return to my house at Christmas as all my parents do is bicker and scream at each other, and I feel responsible for it. C'os I'm the reasons they were married in the first place. Not exactly a lucky star."

Suddenly, he swung round to face her again with a white face and rigidly erect posture. His hazel eyes were steely. "Don't tell anyone." he muttered. "Only the Marauders know."

But an old rusty gate in Lily's heart had creaked gratefully open, as if this confession had been the missing key. "I won't. I swear." she whispered. James grinned and sat beside her, his deportment still awkwardly stiff. Lily suddenly found her hand had snaked itself into his. And James smiled. Not his habitual grin, not his side-ways knowing smirk; a full blown smile lit his face and something warm and encompassing flooded through the rusty gate and spread deliciously to the tips of her toes. It coated her mind in something sweet and pushed her heart onto her sleeve. So, in a warbling voice, egged on by sheer bravado and a want to spit out this poison she said: "My father died."

James' eyes rounded and he squeezed her hand tightly. She turned her head from his face to the flames. She felt him stiffen slightly, then relax. She was sure of what was coming next. But James surprised her.

"I'm so sad for you." he whispered. Her staring eyes glazed with tears that glistened wetly in the fire's light. Suddenly she could not stop and buried her head and voice in James' robe sleeve.

"I had a huge fight with him at Kings Cross this year. I just stood there screaming at him until the train boarded. He didn't yell back at all! He just took it. Oh my gosh, I don't even remember what it was about." James' arm found her shoulders and he encircled her as she wept. "And now he's dead! Dead! Of a heart attack and the last thing I said to him was that I hated him!"

The portrait hole suddenly opened and slammed shut and she ripped herself out of his arms. This was James Potter consoling her! James Potter! The same boy who had hung a banner in the Great Hall proclaiming " Old people smell weird" as the OWL examiners entered it to evaluate their grade. The same boy who thickly poured the super-slippery Mrs Skower's All Purpose Magical Mess Remover over every hall way floor just in time for lunch. The same boy who had dumped chocolate pudding upon her head as she had tentatively made her way to the sorting hat on her first night at Hogwarts!

She shifted away from him as some scared-looking first year hurried past them, casting terrified looks at the expression upon Lily's face.

Then James broke the silence. "I can help."

Lily snorted. "I'm sure. What are you going to do?" she snarled viciously, not facing James. "Build me a time machine?" she scoffed.

"A what, I beg your pardon?" James laughed.

"A something that takes you back in time!" huffed Lily.

James' voice was thick with amusement. "I can do better! I can get you a sure-fire way to reverse what's been done!"

Now she was interested. "What?" She said casually over her shoulder. "Gosh! A time-turner?"

James grinned mischievously. "Better!" he whispered.

Lily's eyes grew wide as she turned bodily back around to face him again. Surely he couldn't! "You're not serious!" she said sceptically. "You can never take anything seriously and this is no different!"

"Oh, really!" he said mysteriously. "Well, meet Sirius and me at the statue of that ugly old bird on the 7th floor." He got to his feet and walked towards the entrance to the boys' staircase, stepping unconcernedly upon Jeremy's roses. "We'll go on a little adventure." At the door to the stairway he paused, looked back at her and grinned. "Seriously."

Excellent! Plz review as then i will love you! xoxox


	2. An alluring set of robes and the flight

Second chappie! Excellent! (wayne style) Thanks for erviewing everyone! Aha, i hear you humming to yourself. Should i or should i not read this fic...well, im not biased or anything but READ AND REVIEW! Argh! Haha! Jks, this is one of my fave chappies so far! ok, i know that this isn't all action and fluff like the demographic wants, but it's leading up to the juicy/slooshy stuff soon. Promise! Keep reading, keep reviewing, and you'll make me a very happy girl!

DISCLAIMER i own Harry Potter. I invented all the characters, the names, the places...right down to the lollie names. I own it all.

(er...heavy levels of sarcasm employed in the above)

ENRAPTURE YOURSELVES!

Jubilantly humming a jazzy number, James burrowed deep inside his trunk for a delightful set of navy robes that was evading him. These robes were rather special, as he had this satisfied feeling that, when worn, these robes excited a primitive, animal magnetism in girls, and were therefore one of his most valuable assets. Of course he hadn't actually tested this alluring possibility of attraction yet, but was sure, tested or not, the Robes were sure to yield the same comfortable results.

He had tipped out the entire contents of the magically enlarged trunk, waded through that, threw it all haphazardly back, sulked, then decided to renew his search with rekindled vigour. He was in the middle of amusing himself with a newly rediscovered Lethargy Lighter which he had fun accusing Peter of stealing months ago, when Sirius burst into the stuffily heated dormitory in a whirlwind of excitement.

"GUESS WHAT!" He shouted dramatically at an unsuspecting James who promptly fell off his bed.

Muttering angrily and nursing the broken lighter, he shot back at Sirius: "What!"

"Snivellus is actually commentating the last match of the season! Gryffindore versus Ravenclaw and HE wants to be the commentator!" Sirius laughed heartily and slapped James upon the back as if what he said was a gesture of friendship.

James glared stonily back at him, removing Sirius' hand in a rather dignified manner as he did so. "What does that matter? Good on him. If he can't play the sport, why not make scathing comments about it in a magically magnified voice so the whole school can hear? I'm proud of him, finally realising his talent for making other people feel terrible and honing it so it reaches far more people than usual." He turned his back on Sirius and resumed his ferocious search for the elusive robes.

Sirius said nothing. James could tell that by the volume of his silence he was annoyed by his lack of abuse steam. He knew he could have been meaner about it. That was obviously what Sirius wanted. But, if he was going to impress Evans tonight, he could not start off this way.

"What's up?"

"Nothing."

"What are you looking for?"

"Butt out!"

"Make me."

"Well, no. As "making your butt out" sounds a bit too risqué for me to put into practise. Someone might intrude on us."

Sirius gave a willing chuckle and settled himself upon James' vacated bed, fiddling with the broken Lighter.

"Are you looking for the Robes?" he asked in an unnecessarily imperative voice.

"No."

"James!"

He sighed. "Yes, sir."

Sirius slipped off the bed and, grinning, aided Jamas in his search.

"So, has she finally said yes to one of your many commands for a date?" he asked, discarding a somehow mouldy scarf into the small furnace placed in the middle of the dormitory.

"No." James said, now searching between stacks of Charms' notes. " You and me are gonna help her repair drastic damage."

Sirius abandoned the disconcertingly wet biscuit box he had been riffling through, and straightened up, staring at James. James just continued his search through his grimy trunk, even though he was fully aware of Sirius' reaction.

They had been friends so long both of them knew what little mannerisms the other had to offer by heart, whether it be silences, blushings, shoutings, unexpected gifts, or lying, and they could always correctly interpret the underlying meaning without the other's help. James took Sirius' silence as that he had figured out his plan.

"Aha!" James crowed triumphantly, peeling the Robes from the underside of his cauldron. "I shall be suave tonight!"

"James!" Sirius barked. "You are NOT thinking of using the What-ta-ha-gig, are you!" Although his voice was projected by anger and shock, James could also hear a slight twist of fear centred in it.

"Well..." James playfully deliberated. "Yeah! And we've got to meet her in-" he shot an unconcerned glance at his watch. "Ohh, 5 mins!" He looked up from his watch to Sirius' infuriated face and then to his friend's pyjamas and smirked. "Better get dressed if your coming!"

'.:. oo000oo.:.

"Well, I must say, Padfoot ol' buddy, you sure do take unanticipated shocks well! Snaps for Sirius!" James sing songed they both strode across the deserted common room, dying embers casting a snug warm glow about the place.

Sirius said nothing but smiled inan ominously forced fashion and slammed the portrait hole in an unwonted viciousness.

The emptiness of the shadowy castel was a glaring contrast from the hectic , chaotic proceedings of laughter and student anarchy that usually filled it's halls during the day. The sombre dark halls seemed to be lamenting the loss its young inhabitants and clutter that ritually flood it as the daylight does.

The wide, sweeping expanse of space on the 7th floor seemed particularly strange for James and Sirius, as 7 years at Hogwarts had taught them the 7th was a writhing flood of students, escaping their entombing lessons. Now, it was a bare shadowy landscape relieved by the usual suit of amour or meandering ghost. They walked slowly beneath the Invisibility Cloak, taking care not to make an excess of noise that may alert the ever-vigilant, vindictive portraits that unfortunately lined the 7th floor.

As they approached the statue of the old hag, James could distinctly make out a long-haired figure in the darkness, her body angled with blatant anticipation. As his heart leaped giddily to his throat, James quickened his pace to close the space been him and Lilly, knocking a suit of amour with his foot in his hast, and crashing spectacularly to the floor.

"Oi!" came a screechy, annoyed voice from inside to amour's head. "I was sleeping!' Peeves shot out of it like a cannon, twirled over in mid-air, and came to rest above their heads, Lilly hurrying over to help an abashed James. "What'cha up to, my fidgety fiends? A creeping 'round the castle, secret dealin's in the dark!" he sniggered, coming to rest upon the very statue. His wide evil grin flashed in the gloom.

"Ah" said James.

Already in a precariously heated mood, Sirius burst. "Get the flip up so we can go already!" he snarled, drawing out his wand.

"Oh" said Lilly.

"STUDENTS!" bellowed Peeves, shooting angrily into the air at the sight of the wand. "STUDENTS OUT OF BED!" A cat gave a loud miaow somewhere in the darkness, and streaked off down the corridor.

"QUICK!" yelled James, and he grabbed Lilly's hand and the scruff of Sirius' neck, and pushed them both towards the statue as the fateful sound of Filch's hobbling grew louder.

"Where are they my sweet!" screeched Filch down the corridor to Mrs. Harrington, his foul vigilante cat.

His ears full of Filch's cries, James tapped the statues hump, and muttered "Disendium". Sirius' feet had just slipped through the hump as they heard Filch burst unto the corridor, his wheezy breathing echoing down into the small earthy tunnel they had just slipped into.

"Where are we?" said Lilly in a terrified whisper. James held up a hand to silence her.

"Where'd they go, Peeves?" growled Filch, his vile cat mewing loudly in the echoey hall above.

"I'll tell you if young give me the key to the Trophy room!"

"Why would you want that, you stinking poltergeist?"

"I don't. It'd just be fun to have." hooted Peeves, and the three terrified students heard him whizz away, cackling madly. Cursing Peeves in a most volatile manner, Filch eventually shuffled off too. James, Lilly and Sirius all let out a collective breath of relief.

"On wards march!" chirped James, and lead the way down the pitch black, earthy tunnel.

Lilly and Sirius swapped looks and followed him, lighting their wands as they went.

'.:. oo000oo.:.

"We can't Apparate!" repeated an exasperated Lilly. "Ancient magic invoked to protect Hogwarts prevents it!"

"Yes thank-you, Miss I-haven't-got-any-fiction-books-to-read. I know that!" James stopped walking and leant lazily against the tunnel wall, stowing his extinguished wand back into his Robes. They seemed to be unfortunately lacking the entrancing magnetism he was sure the Robes must exude. Well, he was not taking his mother's advice on alluring articles of clothing anymore. "But if we go further enough in this tunnel, we should passthe Hogwarts borders, and be able to Apparate!"

Lilly opened her mouth to retaliate, paused, then closed it again looking furious.

"AHA!" James crowed "DEFEATED! Snaps for James!"

"Well, can we hurry it up!" declared Sirius haughtily, holding his wand aloft and peering disgustedly at the walls. "I just found the 8th spider upon me that had decided I'd make a better home than its web!"

"You don't seem to mind so mush on full moons." James said to him in a low voice so Lilly couldn't hear.

Sirius grinned deviously.

"Ok, this should do!" James stood up again, and Lilly raised her wand light hopefully. He could see the painful determination set into her face. "Apparate on the count of 3, my fine furry friends! 1...2-"

"Wait!" Lilly cried. "Where are we Apparating to?"

James glanced at Sirius and grinned. "12, Grimuald Place, London!"

Aha! i hear you say craftily to you computer screen, thats where she's headed! Cant wait for next chappie! LOADS of excitement! xoxoxoxo


	3. A grumpy TimeKeeper and rudeness

Tally ho everyone! thanks soooo much for reviewing my story! id reach out my hug you all warmly if that weren't physically impossible. So, to console myself...here's another chappie! YAYFULNESS! It's getting juicy now, guys! HAHA keep reviewing to keep me happy! If anyone has any suggestions about where the story shoud go from here, just review. Simply review. Magic. So, anyway, sit back and enjoy! (ps. Thanks to everyone who dropped a line that 'lily' was only spelt with one 'l'! What a grievous error!)

DISCLAIMERi own a copy of all the hp books (who doesn't?) i own all the movies. i own a friggin' hogwarts cloak. i own a fake wand. Heck, i even have a harry action figure. But most regretfully, i dont own Harry Potter tm. Tragic, i know.

Have buckets of fun! Here we go...

Lily tried to draw breath, but an all-encompassing nothing pressed constrictingly in on her from all sides. She felt an unbearable upsurge in the gravity; pushing in upon her ribcage, stunting her breathing...she tried to cry out but found her mouth sucked in nothing...then she fell forward upon her face, onto a rough gravely surface. She remained face down for a few seconds, breathing in dust and pollution, as her head's sickening spinning slowed down. Apparation was not for the faint hearted. Dazedly, she lifted her head. She had dropped into the midst of a grimy, dilapidated complex of houses. Their dirty, bleak faces swam depressingly before her eyes.

She staggered over to a mount of rotting, compact garbage by the side of the road she had apparated in on, and sat shakily down; an overwhelming desire to throw-up surged about her stomach. A weak moonlight, struggling to sidestep the thick smog of pollution that hung about, cast everything into a ghostly silver sheen. The place smelt heavily of unclean persons and decomposing refuge.

Was _this _where James wanted her to go? This run-down, filthy complex, unfit for any living inhabitants. Except perhaps rats, mused Lily as one scurried fretfully into the darkness looming about the sides of the depressing houses. Was this a trick? Did Sirius and James Apparate off somewhere else to have a good laugh about leading her on? That seemed like something the pair would do. Had she been stupid enough to take James seriously? To think he actually cared about her feelings, her problems...actually cared about her...

"OI! EVANS!"

A loud, amused voice suddenly rent the air. She snapped her head around in the direction it came from. James and Sirius were standing down the other end of the complex, the darkness cloaking them so sufficiently she had not noticed them. A reluctant smile spreading across her face, she sprang up and jogged over to join them, all sickness winding out of her.

"Potter, keep your voice down!" she whispered reprimanding as she got near them "People are trying to sleep."

"Yes, Evans, Thank-you for the moral lesson." Lily reached them and they started to walk leisurely towards one of the filthy houses, James humming joyfully.

"Excuse me, but where are we and what are we doing?" demanded Lily.

"We are heading for Sirius here's ol' pad." James responded, taking in the derelict surrounds with good nature. Sirius was silent. Lily rather thought his face appeared to have taken on a greenish tinge, but perhaps that was a trick of the washed-out moonlight.

"And how will that...help."

"C'os, there's something in here. It'll let you repair the damage." James said mysteriously. Lily raised her eyebrows, unconvinced the pair were for real. " It'll...help." James smiled reassuringly at Lily. Lily stumbled on a broken curb.

"Here we are!" he said , running forwards into the shadow of one of the crumbling, grimy houses. Lily stopped walking and stared at it. The house was identical to all the other houses surrounding it. There was nothing special about it whatsoever, apart from the fact there was a rusted old car without wheels parked conveniently in the driveway, probably on show to rack the other house's tenants with jealousy that the owners of this particular house were wealthy enough to afford a car. Albeit the burnt shell of one.

Lily stared dubiously up at the house's stained face. Sirius. Live HERE? She had heard the rumours that flitted about Hogwarts like cruel birds, clawing at Sirius' pride and swooping at his reputation. About the massive fight he had had with his family. How they disowned. How he ran away. How James' family had taken him in...She had not believed any one of the many gossips who uttered it hungrily into her ear. She dismissed the whispers as sadistic slander. Yet, here she was. Standing before Sirius' home. She glanced covertly at him. His face had a defiant determination riding across it, yet , Lily noted, it was greener than ever.

"Well." sang James briskly." What are we waiting for?" He strode confidently up the crumbling foot path, stepping cautiously through the untamed long grass of the front 'garden'. There he stopped. Lily peered through the gloom at him. Had he lost his nerve? Suddenly, there was a deep rumbling noise, followed immediately by a loud _POP_, as a house burst into existence on the left-hand side of the rusty car house. Lily leapt back in shock, painfully crushing Sirius' foot. The house, just as grimy a the others, had appeared out of nowhere, as if it had just inflated itself in the narrow strip of grass running between the two houses now neighbouring it. James was grinning broadly at the look upon Lily's face as she approached the house with awe.

"Inside, my fine furry friends." he now whispered, and taking Lily's hand lead her towards the entrance.

Sirius hesitated, looking sweatily uncollected, then followed reluctantly.

"I think you may do the honours, Padfoot ol'pal!" James murmured to Sirius, inspecting the doorhandle, which was a silver serpent wound sinuously around and old fashioned brass handle. Sirius made a small groaning noise, put his hand into his robes, and pulled out his wand. Lily watched, amazed, as he tapped the door in 3 places: slightly above the handle, precisely in the middle, then down in the far left corner. Sirius then drew away, looking grim. Silence ensued. Lily shivered. The place had horribly menacing air to it, like a haunted house. Then, they heard a series of mechanical clickings and whirrings, and the door creaked grudgingly open.

"Well, there you are! I think _you _can do the honours, Prongs ol' pal!" Sirius flourished his hand in the direction of the doorway and the snatch of the shadowy black hallway beyond it.

Smirking, James erected his head, illuminated his wand, and, holding it aloft, ventured first into the house's dark hallway. Sirius strode in after him, and Lily close behind. She could see nothing in the solid pitch black that loomed beyond the strip of moonlight thrown across the floor from the open door.

"Close the door." Sirius whispered so softly he was barely audible. Slowly, Lily swung the heavy door shut. Impenetrable black enveloped them. Lily hurriedly stepped closer to James. She had an inane fear of darkness.

"Both of you follow me as close as you can. Do not make any noise. If possible, keep breathing to a quiet minimum." Sirius breathed to Lily and James. Lily felt her grip tighten convulsively upon James' arm. Were Sirius' parents really that horrible?

"Lily. Circulation." James whispered down to her. She loosened her grip but did not let go. They seemed to be ascending a staircase. Lily brushed its elaborately draped banisters with her fingertips, her eyes wide and unseeing, the undiluted darkness pressing in on her The house was deathly quiet. Suddenly, there was a sharp squeal of pain, and a high-pitched yelp.

"_Who's there_!"

"Who's there?"

"Show yourself!"

"_You _show _yourself_!"

"Regulus?"

"_Sirius_? Sirius!"

"Is that you?"

"Is that _you_?"

"I asked first!"

"Oh, Lumos!"

Lily held her wand up high above her head. It's beam fell upon a scared looking boy of about 13, who's dark hair and sculpted face greatly resembled Sirius'. It seemed Sirius and the boy had run into each other at the top of the stairs. The boy was clutching his nose in pain, and Sirius was furiously massaging his forehead.

"What are you here for?" the boy said thickly from behind his hand. He lowered his voice worriedly. "You're not here to bump off Mamma and Father are you?"

Sirius snorted, looking at the boy with contempt. "Unfortunately, no. That would be a rather fruitless expense of my time." he replied flatly. "We're here to help-" His voice petered out suddenly. His mouth gaped and sagged as colour drained from his face at remarkably speedy pace, his eyes fixed on something just over Regulus's shoulder. Frowning, Lily edged nervously around to see what monstrosity was causing such terror in Sirius. She had the merest glance of a tiny skinny dark figure prowling around in the shrouding darkness before it darted away, off down the impenetrably black corridor beyond the staircase.

"What is it?" asked Lily, uncomfortably aware of the colour Sirius' face was exuding.

"Kreature!" breathed James in hoarse whisper. Lily was alarmed by the fright in voice. "_We've got to go_!" James screamed, just as a hideous scream of pure loathing echoed horribly from down the hall. Lily moaned with fright, and covered her ears. Grabbing roughly at Lilly's cloak, James and Sirius tore off down the hall, _towards _the scream! But they veered off into a room off the hall, flashing inside and slamming the door closed. "_colloportus_" panted James, and the door thankfully sealed itself.

"Over here! Now!" yelled Sirius, who had strode over to one of the large portraits lining the room's walls. He flicked out his wand again, tapped the portrait, muttering:

"_Time's a bounding, _

_Clock's a sounding, _

_Life's many hours flit by. _

_Past' s un-a-changing, _

_Though a way's arranging' _

_For those brave enough to try."_

The portrait glowed deep gold around the edges for a second, then suddenly, a voice spoke out of it, a rough, bored voice which rumbled in a frequency Lily was sure would carry out into the corridor.

"Who _dares _disturb me?" it rumbled.

"Lilly, come and talk to it, NOW!"

She obeyed, walking shakily over to the portrait. This was all her fault! Why couldn't she have just live with the guilt? The gutting shrikes of a woman could be heard beyond the room, growing louder and louder.

"No, Mamma. I didn't see where he went!" cried Regulus plaintively in the corridor.

"So, what do I do?"

"Speak to the portrait! Tell it where you want to go!"

Lilly could just make out small, grumpy looking man in the painting, a dusty silver wig perched atop his head, an immensely large watch in his hands.

"Umm." She thought hard. Sirius shot a nervous glance towards the door, which was now being hammered upon. "August the 30th!" She shouted finally.

The portrait heaved an irritable sigh. "Fine! Manners would be nice occasionally!" The little man fiddled intricately with the large gold watch in his hands.

"C'mon!" James shouted at him, panic stripping at his voice.

"Rude!" muttered the little man to himself. "Ignorant young insolent-"

"GO!" They all screamed simultaneously, as the fierce hammering against the door increased.

"Right!" the old man said. "Got it!" And he lifted the watch by its fine gold chain, and spun it. But instead of slowing down , the watch's rotating velocity sped up until it was a mere gold and white blur. He looked up at he 3 terrified teenagers. "Well, off you go!"

The portrait swung forward, but instead of revealing a blank wall, it opened to a solid square block of shining gold, like the portrait had been concealing a window, and an illuminous sun was shining through it, stunning their eyes in the darkness. Lilly barely had time to admire its beauty before James and Sirius both took one of her arms and, as one entity, dove head first into the shining window of gold, just as the door burst open .

The a cacophony of screams and wails faded slowly from their ears...Lily could see nothing except for the vast expanse of incandescent gold swirling mystically around them...then, with out warning, they plunged heads first into a Persian rug upon a very hard, real floor. Lily faintly heard a door open. Clutching her head where it hit the floor, she got groggily to her feet, James and Sirius rising too. They seemed to be in the room they had just left, except there was early morning light streaming in through the high curtained windows. They all stared at the door. A boy stared back. A boy that looked, in every possible minute detail, exactly like James. He had his hand on the doorknob and appeared to have just opened it. His mouth was hanging at an obscene angle.

"Hiya!" ventured a stunned James.

The boy crashed in a dead faint to the floor.

cue mystery music) Oooooh, you're all saying. Yes, crafty again. Har de har! Stay tuned my monkeys. More slooshiness on the way.(review. go on!)xoxoxoxo


	4. An awkward kiss and the awful truth

Ahoy there, fangoriously funtastic fan-ficcers! Well, heres a new chappie, fresh from my holiday-bordem-riddled brain to your compy! Congrats! I've got heaps up my sleeve, but if you want to see the fic take a certain bumpy, pot-holed road, review and you will recieve. A quardruple lot of hug and kisses to everyone who is reviewing...I LOVE YOU ALL! (ahem) Please keep reviewing every chap, otherwise i'll go crazy and kill everyone off (nah-ha-ya-da-ba) So, proceed to read!

DISCLAIMER Woah! i saw hp ngof twice today! Twice! it was sooo grood, and i was soooo tempted to have my way with Danny, but unfortunately i cant because i dont own hptm and would therefore be responsible for police apprehension. Damn laws.

Captivate yourselves!

Everything was steeped in silence. None of them moved a single muscle; a stunned paralysis snatched them at various stages of surprise: Lily had here hands over her gaping mouth, her eyes wide and staring. Sirius stood stock still, eyebrows arching so high upon his forehead he looked almost comical. James had managed to walk over to the limp form of the teenage boy, as though to inspect, then he slipped ungainly to a sitting position, staring avidly at the boy. They remained in this atmosphere of suspended movement until a loud crash from somewhere down stairs made them all jump. They looked around at each other, then, as one, all looked at the boy. It was Sirius who first broke the gluey silence.

"How unsettling." he croaked.

"Unsettling?" James looked over his shoulder at Sirius from his perch on the floor, an expression of indignation cramping his face. "How am I unsettling? Unfortunate, is more what I call it. What are the chances of us appearing out of the Wa-ta-ha-gig at the exact moment I enter the room in the past!" He gave a short, uneasy laugh. "I mean, I've hardly been over your place at all! What timing!"

But Sirius was inspecting the room with a deeply carved furrowed-brow: at the tall now-dusty window, the stained Persian rug, and the grime-encrusted portraits along the faded walls.

"Guys..." Sirius spoke in a spooked whisper, his eyes darting nervously . "This isn't how we left the room. Time has passed...alot of time." He was walking restlessly around, looking horribly unnerved.

"What do you mean, time has passed?" barked James from the floor. He was heartily regretting taking his best friend along for this ride now, as he had turned out to be such a wet blanket. Here he was, in an isolated room with Evans, and Sirius was racing around, muttering jerky worries under his breath. It was doing nothing at all to help create some sort of romantic ambiance.

"I mean..." Sirius stopped pacing recklessly and came to a halt in front of James, staring down at him with a sort of barely contained terror scrawled across his face. "We've gone too far! This is not our year!"

James heard Lily's rasping intake of breath over in the far corner of the room.

"How did this happen?" he demanded angrily, stepping up to meet Sirius's gaze. "What went wrong?"

"Nothing went wrong! I did everything as we were meant to-" Sirius' eyes widened in horror, then, as he decided upon some sort of conclusion, they narrowed dangerously to slits of dark anger.

"WHAT DID YOU DO?" he span around furiously and marched across the room. James, for a wild second, thought he was about to have a go at Lily and made a horrified step forward before he realised Sirius had pulled out his wand and was whacking the old Time-Keeper's portrait repeatedly in an upsurge of violent manners.

James would have found the energetic display rather hilarious if Sirius was not swearing vehemently and Lily hadn't curled into some sort of protective foetal position. He had never seen a heated reaction of this magnitude before. Usually if Sirius hated someone, that someone would be marked out straight away because of the distinctive curling antlers Sirius had a preference for bestowing his unfavourables with. But James had never seen this kind of panicky intensity in his friend before.

"Hey! Calm down! I'm sure we can work this out. If everyone just loses their heads, nothing will be resolved!" he said sagely, averting his gaze of the unconcious James prostrate on the floor. He chose to ignore the quiet sobbing from the Lily's corner.

Sirius opened his mouth angrily, but a raspy voice beat him to it.

"Hey. HEY! What'cha doing that for?"

The portrait had woken up, perhaps due to the ferocious beating his frame had just endured, James speculated.

"WHAT DID YOU DO?" howled Sirius again.

The portrait looked innocently alarmed. "What? Me? Who are you kids?"

"You know very well who we are!" Lily shrieked suddenly, rising shakily off the floor to glare poisonously at the portrait. James could not help but admire her bravado in a situation like this. Tears were pouring thickly from her eyes, yet she still managed to be rude.

"Oh!" comprehension dawned across the old man's face, to be replaced almost instantly with a look of sheepish uneasiness. "I remember you guys. From way back! You-"(he pointed accusingly at Lily)" -were rude to me, so, I gave you a taste of your own antidote!" He glared triumphantly at them all, obviously under the impression that he had taught them some life-worthy lesson that would mould them into model humanitarians for the rest of their lives.

"Where are we then?" said Sirius through gritted teeth. James could foresee some sort of radical meltdown in a full pending swing inside Sirius' head. He sidled covertly into the shadow of a cob-web laced bookshelf for protection from air-borne objects.

"You're bound to happen across the baffling elusive riddle of what year you're in somewhere! Calenders may still be in existence, you know. Now I really must dash, my insolent, unappreciative apes, as I'm wanted elsewhere. But before I go, I'll give you a clue as to why you're here! Only when you have solved it may you return to your own times!"

"WHAT?" roared Lily. "You cannot be serious! What sick, sadistic game are you playing with us!"

"Oho! There you go again with that delightful eloquent tact of yours!" the old man laughed wheezily. "Ok, no clue for you then!"

"Wait!" shouted Sirius hurriedly. "You cant leave us stranded here!"

The wheezy laughing heightened mockingly as the old man surveyed the 3 angry teenagers with ease. "Oh, you won't be stranded. It'll just take you longer to finish your clue as to why you're here!"

"How can we solve it without a clue!" James' voice called out from behind the bookcase.

"I'm sure you'll find a way." the little old Time-Keeper said airily, and he waved cheerily at them as he strode out of his frame. Upon his absence, the portrait turned black once more.

"COME BACK!" Sirius screamed, hitting his wand against the frame again, tearing any sort of humanitarian lesson learnt to shreds. It was no use: the Time-Keeper had stranded them.

"So, we're in a different _year_!" Lily said in a small vice. Her hair hung dejectedly over her face and James knew she was wiping away tears of frustration. They had embarked upon all this to help her remedy what had happened with her father, and now, they had no-idea what year they were even in.

Year...James felt his breathing constrict, a dull static singing in echoes around his head. This was not his year...that boy...that was not him!

James flung himself to the ground , his nose barely an inch from the unconscious boy's, a blind terror rising in a crescendo inside him. Then he saw it...a scar. A faint thin scar...shaped like bolt of lightening upon the boy's forehead. James stood up wordlessly, a icy cold sweat stealing over his skin.

"James, who _is _that?" Sirius' voice sounded distant, like James was hearing him from the bottom of a well.

Suddenly, the room's door opened without any proceeding warning of footfalls or knocking. They all recoiled with an instinctive fear instilled for survival: Lily dashing behind the curtain, Sirius taking James' place beside the bookshelf, and James darted around like a cornered rabbit, every concealable nook taken-

"Harry! There you are! Hey, everyone's waiting for you at dinner, so hurry up.", said a loud voice from the doorway.

James slowly turned his head to face what vile, unseen enemy this murky future may hold...to meet the puzzled dainty face of a small, slender girl with boisterous long red hair that swept after her as she walked into the room , gazing happily at James.

He mouthed unformed words at her for a second, gesturing unhelpfully towards the blank portrait. The girl stepped forwards, smiling. She didn't seem to have noticed the boy on the ground, or Lily or Sirius

"I don't believe you're leaving in two days. Again. How come every visit you make to me is set to be a week, yet flits by like second?" and to James utter horror, she reached up and coiled her small arms around him in a constricting embrace which James felt misplaced some internal organs. Over the top of her head, he could see Sirius grinning , and too his right, Lily's face peeking out of the musty curtain folds.

"Um...yeah." replied James, uncomfortably aware of how the girl had not let go by now. This was just the kind of uncompromising situation James would have drunk broomstick polish rather than let Lily see him in, and he felt her eyes burning into his back.

"Please...just don't leave this time. Please." whispered the girl from somewhere around James' midriff and before he knew what was happening, before he had even made an answer, the girl flung herself upwards and caught James' lips in a flurry of passion, her arms locked tightly around his head so he could not so much as move an inch. Conveniently, Sirius chose this juncture to grant one of his ringing, barking laughs. Startled, the girl ripped herself away from James, swirling around in a blur of fiery red hair to look at Sirius.

"What? _Who_...What were...WERE YOU SPYING ON US?" she whipped a wand ferociously from her jean pocket and pointed it menacingly at Sirius, her delicate face transformed with a steely anger. Sirius stopped laughing immediately, eyeing the girl's wand and cloudy face . There was something about her that commanded attention.

"No, we weren't" Lily unfurled herself from the depths of the curtains, picking dust bunnies from her robes whilst staring at the girl with contempt. "You had better put down that wand before I _make _you put it down!" she growled at her. The two girls sized each other up, eyes darting unnecessarily to the other's hair and sweeping in their clothes.

"Oh my god." said the short girl softly. She was staring at Lily's face in an unabashedly open way. Her jaw dropped. "You've got...his...eyes."

"Wait! I've...I've got who's eyes?" Lily demanded.

The girl walked over to James and took his hand in hers. "Harry!" she said, looking pointedly at James "You've got exactly the same colour eyes as Harry!"

"Whoa!" said James, wrenching his hand from hers. This little girl was obviously bewitched...or drunk. "JAMES!" he said loudly and clearly to her. "Jam-es! Not Harry! And my eyes are _hazel_!" he added scathingly.

"What?" Then hers eyes found the unconscious boy on the floor. Then they darted up to James again. Then to Lily. Then, finally to Sirius. "Oh." she murmured faintly. "That's interesting." she looked up at them all, crowded around her.

"Your James and your Lily." she nodded at each of them, her face's sudden pallor belying its determined expression. "And...Sirius." she smiled wanly, and bent downwards to collect the unconscious boy's hand in hers.

James, Lily, and Sirius just stood there before her clumsily, gluey silence circling the still room like a cumbersome ghost, as the girl took the boy's head tenderly in her arms, and slowly kissed his forehead. James looked quickly away, embarrassed by this honesty.

"How do you know us?" he asked quietly of the girl, his face towards the wall.

The red-haired girl took a while in answering. Though when she did, it was a sentence that James knew he would never be able to forget: "This is Harry. He's your son."

Hahaha! Oh, the scandal! This last line sounds at home in Neighbours or Bold and the Beautiful or some other trashy tv show where everyone gets dirtywith everyone else's grandchilderen. BUT MY FIC IS NOT LIKE THAT! please review, cos then i'll love you. Stay tuned, my filthy monkeys! The next chappie shall be scrum-diddly-umtious! if i do say so myself! (ok, thats enough exclaimation marks in a row!) xoxoxoxoxox


	5. A snobby mansion and reality

Hi de ho all! New chappie! Premium! This one is heaps longer than the last because..well...i just wanted it to be. Hope everyone likes it, cos it's going to be a great next chappie! Habahahahababab! Super-duper-uber love to evryone who is reviewing! i heart you all soooooo much! So please continue, or next chappie you'lll get an unpleasant surprise that may or may not involve a twisted fragile charcter, mind bending drugs and a massacre. (evil laughter) Well, id best be off to bed as i need my beauty sleep to go xmas shopping tomoz! EXCELLENT! bahaha! keep reviewing !

DISCLAIMER! Well, i read this really shocking article the other day in AUSTRALIAN WOMAN'S WEEKLY (shameless endorsement) that JK is oh so sick of Harry that she's just a bout ready to chuck the whole thing in and kill him off. To this i have to say: JK could just sell all her squillions of HP rights to me! cos i currently dont own a jot of Harry and would never in a million years kill him off! I dont believe the article, but, stilll...the offers up, Jo.

Engorge yourselves, my monkies!

An echoey silence prevailed after this peculiar announcement. Then, James burst into peels of feverish laughter. He clutched his sides and fell to his knees, snorting and guffawing into the tight silence.

The girl looked severely upset. She cast a pale, panicky glance at the boy on the ground and brought herself to her feet, her readied wand shaking madly in her hand. James kept his eyes upon her as she rose, tears streaming openly down his face. Sirius and Lily had retreated against the grimy wall, both sharing looks of alarm and a slight shade of scepticism. James' booms of laughter continued to curl around them. Nobody else made the slightest sound.

Then, presently, James abruptly stood up, eyeing the girl with a deadly cold stare. "You think that's funny, do you?" he snarled at her, all traces of mirth twisting into smoke. "I bet Snivellus put you up to this! What a load of dung! How could that boy be my son? " As he said this, he unsheathed his wand from his robes, and pointed it frankly at the girl.

She simply erected her posture and stared him back. The lurking silence spiralled again.

"I...I...I'm not having you on." she stammered, her voice weak and pale. "He is Harry James Potter. Your son." Suddenly, she broke down, slumping unto the floor and moaning piteously. "Oh! This is terrible! Oh, how will he take it? He won't be able to! This last year has been dreadful, and all he needs is _this _happening! _This _will destroy him!" she cried into her cupped hands, tears leaking from between her fingers.

Lily made an awkward move forward, paused, then crouched down beside the girl, a comforting hand upon her shoulder. "It's ok." she murmured soothingly, and she looked commandingly over her shoulder to the other two. Sirius hurried forward obediently, a sceptical expression still about his face, but James made no move to help. He simply crossed his arms with cold indifference.

"I can't believe you traitors! She tells a whopper like that and you two run to her side as soon as she starts _fake _crying! Gits!" he snorted, walking over to the window, away from the crying, commiserating huddle.

"James." Lily spoke softly. "She's not a liar. I can tell."

A small voice reached out from the huddle. "He is your son! I've known him for years. And I know how this will affect him." She shook off Lily and Sirius, got to her feet again and angrily wiped away her tears as if they were indecent. Lily got the impression she didn't often cry that easily. "And I know how you all got here! Through that dratted Time-Keepers portrait! I overheard the Order talking about it the other day. How they had given up trying to use him as he's got grumpy in his old age and regularly sends people to undesired destinations, giving them stupid riddles on how to get back! Seems to think it's funny." She shook Lily's hand from her shoulder in a determined manner and gazed fiercely at them all. "I'll take a bet that's how you all got here. Am I right?"

James made a barley audible noise of assent from the back of his throat. He remained at the window sill, hunched over with some heavy emotion.

"I'm telling the truth...please believe me as we _have _to do something about you guys before he wakes up!"

"Why?" Lily spoke clearly, though her head was performing tumble turns . "So what if James' son sees his father a bit of a jot younger than he usually is? I mean-" she strengthened her voice. "This is excusable magic! Just a simple apology and we're on our way. Besides, the boy won't even recognise Sirius or me so it won't be that big a shock!"

The girl gave a teary chuckle from Lily's shoulder, still wiping furiously at her shining brown eyes. " Lily..." She cocked her head slightly to the side and surveyed Lily gently. "You're his mother."

At this, James whipped around.

Lily tittered nonchalantly, wrapping her arms around the girl again as if she were a whimsical three-year-old. "I'm sure!" she laughed, trying to ignore a niggle of fright twisting around her insides.

Sirius barked with glee. "Oh! So she's suddenly a liar again, eh Evans?"

James stood completely still, a statuette of startled hope.

Lily looked down at the girl she had her arm around. She still looked teary, although evidently amused. Lily ripped her arm off the girl's shoulder and backed away, her heart drumming a frantic tattoo in her chest.

"You mean he's my...I am his..._James_ is my...So, James and me had...we..._had_ to of...to have a baby, we..._gosh_!" Lily clutched both her head and stomach as the room gave a sickening lurch and began spinning. She heard alarmed voices, but her eyes were chocked with tears as a dizzy nausea smothered her. After a minuet or two of swirling queasiness, Lily found herself prostate upon the dusty floor, James, Sirius and the girl swimming back into focus, crowded around her all looking extremely worried.

"Evans! Speak to me! Can't we do anything?" James looked over his shoulder at Sirius, his face rigid and pale. "Lily! Merlin, what if she's dead! What will we do? What will _I _do? I -" For Sirius had tapped him upon the shoulder, and pointed to the alert Lily. James slowly turned his head back around and grinned sheepishly at her.

Lily stumbled to her feet, her sudden nausea evaporating slowly. She didn't dare to look at the boy still unconscious upon the ground. She found she would not be able to handle any upsurge of feelings she may encounter now with the knowledge that he was her son.

"So where are we and who are you?" she muttered to the girl, collapsing in a splintered silky-oak chair.

The girl took a steadying breath and began: "My name is Ginny. We are in 12 Grimauld place, and the year is 1997, just for the record."

"1997?" said James. His face had become a white sketch of fright and pain. "You cannot be serious? Have we been missing all these years? Where are...-" he petered out, sweat shining suddenly upon his taunt face. "My parents! Where are my parents? Are they ok? Do you know?"

"I'm, I'm sorry! I don't!" stammered the girl called Ginny, twisting her long red hair nervously.

Lily looked quickly at James. Selfish, she thought. They were here because of _her _father, and all he can think about are _his _parents! James' shoulders were squared defiantly and his face a mask. "Guys." he said quietly. "I've got to go to them. My father. I need to know."

"Wait! James, I'll come with you." said Lilly, taking herself by surprise. She rose reluctantly from the chair. Her legs shook weakly and her hands still tingled unpleasantly with icy pins and needles.

"Same" said Sirius. He wore a slightly amused expression and grinned knowingly at Lily. She ignored him and turned to the girl.

"What about you?" she asked. The girl crossed the room and peered down the stairs. Lily could now distinguish the happy voices of well-fed laughing people drifting up . "It's ok for now." she said upon re-entering the room. "He isn't here yet. But Harry needs to meet him. I'll go with you, then we can figure out how to get Harry up and moving again for his meeting."

Lily waited, but the girl didn't elaborate.

"Can you Apparate " she asked kindly. Noticing her patronising tone, Ginny's eyes narrowed . "No." she replied stiffly, walking away from Lily. "But I can Side-Along with Sirius here.!" Lily looked the girl over. She must only be about 14 or 15, but she had an air of dazzling self-assurance about her. She was one you couldn't help noticing. Lily's eyes flickered to the boy upon the floor, and back to the girl, now clutching Sirius' arm with a rough determination, her face set. She could see why her son liked her. Lily scrunched up her eyes and scraped her fingers through her hair. Did she really just think that? This must be a dream. She would surely wake up at any moment and recount it to her friends while bursting with laughter at the absurdity of it all. James' voice hacked callously into her confused thoughts. "28 Ivyton street, London! Let's go!"

She span around tightly and a moment later a cool early morning breeze was caressing her face. She opened her eyes. They were all standing in the middle of a road lined with ostentatious, large sweeping Victorians and towering laurel trees. Every house bragged elaborative manicured gardens, rolling emerald lawns that rippled in the morning breeze, and intricately wrought high iron security fences.

A clinging smell of old money hung snobbishly around the affluent houses: in the sculptured hedges bordering every house, in the expensive cars that graced every drive-way, even in the lamp-posts that sported their own curling iron garland, which hung just below the street-light. Golden sunlight dappled in through the laurel's leafy canopy overhead. Appropriate colour, though Lily, regarding the posh houses scornfully. A street of snobbery and poodles.

"You live here?" Lily could not help the derision from creeping into her voice. James noticed her tone and frowned. "Well, as a matter of fact, Evans, I do... I did."

"I thought your parents were pure-blood wizards. What's with the Muggle residency?"

"Mum loved this Muggle suburb and bullied Dad into buying here. Simple." He caught Lily's eyes and smiled.

Remembering what James had let slip about his parents, Lily looked away, embarrassed.

"My house is...here." James had walked a short distance away, coming to a stop out side one of the largest houses. It was a sprawling stone mansion, towering above then laurel trees even. Its innumerable windows glinted majestically in the early morning sun. Lily was sure it was one of those houses that, even if you just kept walking, you could never find the end of. She even noted the pointed roof of the small cylindrical structure above the two engraved oak front doors as a deliberate mimicry of a turret. How snobbishly rude and superficial, she huffed to herself.

James smiled wistfully at it. "Home sweet home." he murmured.

Ginny's jaw had involuntarily dropped. "Your house looks as if it should have it's own moat." she whispered, her eyes obscenely round.

"Well, Dad was thinking of getting one, but he thought perhaps the alligators would scare the neighbours kids. I'm joking, I'm joking! he said quickly to the look of disgusted incredulity upon Ginny's face. Lily regarded the mansion too. No. This had to be a dream . Never in her lifetime, or her next, could she see herself calling this snotty superficial display of the Potter's wealth and superiority home.

"So." said Sirius, who seemed neither impressed nor disdainful of this blatant exhibit of riches. "How do we get in to see if your parents are ok?" he looked around at hem all. "Any ideas?"

Everyone fell silent, shifting slightly in the cool wind that succeeds sunrise. All except James, who had walked up to the tall imposing gate that shielded the Potter Mansion and had looped his arms through the bars, slumping against them.

Suddenly, a cry rent the crisp morning air. "Harry? OH! Harry! I knew you would be back here one day!" And with that an old lady came shuffling out of one of the neighbouring houses. She hobbled excitedly up to a bewildered James and thrust herself upon him in a bone-crunching hug.

"Ow." moaned James. Lily could tell just by the expression upon his face he had no idea who this old lady was. She stepped back from him, her eyes glittering with tears and they all got a good look at her. She was dressed peculiarly for so early in the morning. She was wearing a fox-fur scarf, a long floaty dress and sparkling high heels. To accessorise this dazzling outfit, she sported many glittering jewellery, mist-blue eye shadow, and fire-engine red lipstick. Her strangely pink-tinged hair was drawn back into an elegant bun and secured with a jewelled hair clasp. Lily gaped. Never in her life had she seen an old-woman dress more dashingly...or insanely.

"My darling!" she trilled regally, catching James' hands in hers. "You look ever so much like your father! Oh, do come into my house children! We shall enjoy a spot of tea, and I can take you all through your father's past, dear!" She turned sharply away and marched back to her own house, as if she was just expecting them all to follow. James and Sirius followed her clicking high-heels at once, but the others held back.

"C'mon! She'll tell me what happened to my parents!" James hissed over his shoulder at them. Lily and Ginny swapped exasperated looks but followed reluctantly. Mrs.Castaweller (as she introduced herself the moment they were all comfortably seated in her luxurious living room, tentatively sipping tea) told them all that she was an old neighbour of the Potter's but never really liked the young family (here James made an affronted noise but muffled it into his china cup) until she had got to know their son James and his wife Lily, more so when they had their son Harry, all this whilst scratching the ear of a grumpy old diamante-collared cat.

"You were such a delightful child! You still are! I've seen ever so many photos of you in the paper, I knew you from the second I saw you! Splitting image of James! It's uncanny!" she trilled, staring in open adoration at an uncomfortable James. "My sister Arabella and I got to mind you once a week! Your parents were the loveliest people ever..." she drifted away, looking dreamily over their heads. Ginny, who had the most peculiar look upon her face, hastily changed the subject. "So, are Harry's grandparents still there? He knows nothing of his father's family after all..."

Mrs. Castaweller's eyes came abruptly back into focus, and immediately rather bright. "No. I'm awfully sorry, child. Your grandparents were taken months before you were born."

James had turned a nasty green colour. "What do you mean taken?" he said, his hands nervously rattling his china cup.

"Oh, taken dear." Mrs. Castaweller leaned in towards James kindly, squashing her cat in the process, and took his hand taking hers. "Taken. By You-know-who's followers. There was a Dark Mark above the Potter Mansion and all. The Magical Law Enforcement Patrol were working well into the next day, modifying all those Muggles memories that caught a glance of it. Well, there was an uproar in the muggle community, I can tell you! A double murder on Ivyton street! Such a thing had never even been supposed before! But it wasn't though everyone really felt sorry for your grandparents. Not very social or pleasant people. Most unlike your parents! I never really forgave them for the hard time they put your father through when he wanted to marry your mother-"

At that, James stood up abruptly and excused himself in a stiff voice. After he gave the rest of them a significant glace, they all murmured their apologies and followed suit, leaving the old lady and her slightly-squashed cat behind. Once out in the street, James immediately Disapperated without so such as a word of warning. Lily sighed and began to as well, Ginny choosing this time to let her accompany her.

When she opened her eyes again, they were outside Sirius' house, which looked even more decrepit and forlorn in the early sunrise as it did 20 years ago...Lily noticed James hunched over on the crumbling sidewalk. She and Sirius both walked over and put an arm each around him. But Ginny was staring, apparently horror-struck, at the rusted gate entrance to Grimauld Place. Lily looked over and saw a procession of Ministry cars winding their way into the complex.

"Oh, frizzle!" exclaimed Ginny, and she raced over to the others, and pushed them all over to the newly-materialised front door of Number 12. "In! In!" she hissed, and once they all were, she slammed the door with a breathless feverishness, and began badgering them up the stairs.

"Is that you, Ginny dear?" came a woman's voice from the basement kitchen, where the loud happy talking was still taking place. "We have all been waiting for you and Harry for over half an hour! Hurry up!"

When, at last they were all safely back in the Time-Keeper's room, Ginny turned breathlessly to a silent James and spoke in an urgent whisper: "Someone really important is going to be here in mere _seconds _to see your son. Harry is-" she glanced hopelessly at the still-prostrate boy. "-in an unfortunate condition-"

"No! Wait! I can fix him!" Sirius crouched down , whipped out his wand and tapped the boy's chest, muttering "_Enervate_." He stood back impressively, waiting. Nothing happened. The boy remained as solidly unconscious as ever.

"-In an unfortunate condition." continued Ginny as though there had been no interruption. "This is really important. Can you pretend to be Harry, just for tonight?"

Dum dum duuuuuumm! (over-dramactically) Yes. This is it. What will happen next? Will James stuff it up and reveal his true identity? Will Ginny be able to not make out witrh her bf's dad agian? Will Sirius ever have more than two lines in the entire fic? And will Lily disclose her unplesant secret...that she's really a man?( Erm...no. I dont think i'll take that path) Well, that's it for now, filthy monkies! Tune in next time! now where's my cookie dough...xoxoxoxo


	6. A terrible impression and consciousness

Cheerio, my glorious fan-ficcers! Another chappie for your enjoyment! If you want somehting to happen in the fic, dont be shy, JUST REVIEW! As James says: SIMPLE! Bahaha! Anyhoo...hope evryone likes this one yada yada...i probs wont update for a while cos it's xmas soon...and..well, yeah. Cos its Christmas. Cant think of anyway to explain that. Soon, eat it up my monkies! And dont forget TO REVIEW! iv got to know that you guys are still liking it! Otherwise I'll just give up...which is so...eurgh. So REVIEW! Kindly appreciated!

DISCLAIMER! i had this really awesome dream the other night where i got on this random train and it turned out to be the hogwarts express, and i got to beat up all the kids i dont like and piliage from the trolly witch and claim danny as my de facto, and i could do it all as I OWNED HPTM! ...then i woke up.

Transport yourselves in transports of delight!

"No way." whispered James, collapsing into the splintered oak chair. "I'm not doing anything...just...just leave me alone." He felt a prickly burning behind his eyes and gathered his hands over his face as a icy barb-wired emotion deluged him. He felt hot tears spill over. He could sense Sirius near the door and hoped he was not watching.

Ginny stared compassionately at him for a moment, then strode forward and knelt before him, her hands united as though in prayer. "Please." she murmured so quietly only James could hear. "Please. This...this could help end the war. You know about V-Voldemort, don't you?"

"Yes,." James croaked from behind his hands. He had heard of Voldemort. Scattered here and there amongst the Daily Prophet were short articles tossing his name carelessly about. Nothing serious. But, James had heard his parents talking (it was one of the only thinggs they ever only _talked_ about)…they were friends of the Headmaster Dumbledore, and, from what James had gleaned from his midnight perchings atop the manor's marble stairway, Dumbledore seemed to be cautiously watching Voldemort's every move with an ominous apprehension that had spread noxiously about almongst friends and admirers. No-one could confidently say Dumbledore was not worried...and when Dumbledore worries, the reason why must be a grave endeavour indeed.

"Then you'll know…well, I'll explain it to you later...but, please. You must come down and pretend to be him! For half an hour at least. Prop up a nice little smile, speak to...him, and you can be on your way. Harry really needs your help. Do it for your son" James felt a small hand close around his wrist and prise his hands away from his eyes. Ginny's pale face swam blurrily in front of him, rippled strangely due to a new brim of tears. "Please." she whispered.

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"Ok, well, you do it Evans."

"What? You have to be kidding?"

"C'mon! You're his...mother."

"I am not taking off his clothes! Does it matter if your not dressed as him?"

"Ginny said it mattered. Please! Do it!"

"_You're _his father!"

"And _you're _his mother. Simple! I bet in this world you're used to it!"

"Eurgh, Lily no!"

"Sirius, stay out of this."

"I agree. _You _want to dress like him, _you _take off his clothes!"

"Fine!" James shoved them both towards the door. This was not going to be pleasant….

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"Alright!" Ginny spoke firmly, although the hand resting upon the kitchen's doorknob was trembling slightly. James could hear the happy people in the next room and felt no need at all of joining them. _A party you don't want to be the hub of_, he thought wryly_, that's a first_.

"You know what to do. Just talk to him, assure him you know where it is, he'll shake your hand and do all that proper stuff. And you just grin and bear it." her voice softened "I know this all must be a shock for you, what with your parents and everything, but just try. Harry will thank you." she twisted the door handle and began to open the door, then abruptly snapped it shut again, and whipped around to face James. "One more thing. "she added " Don't _say _too much. Might give us away and I don't see the outcomes being very favourable if that's how it winds up"

James shrugged half-heartedly. Why was he doing this, he thought to himself wildly as Ginny swung the door wide open and marched inside the crowded room. _Why_?

"HARRY! Oi, Harry's here Mum!" came a loud voice, and, not even a second after he had stepped through the door, he was waylaid by a tall someone.

All he saw was a blur of flaming red hair and a flash of a grinning , freckled face before he was being tugged ruthlessly by the arm toward a knot of gentlemen. He was then immediately shunted into the middle of them by the red-haired someone, who then mysteriously vanished, but not before James had seen the mischievous grin upon his face.

Looking about in a startled daze, he found 6 or so elderly gentlemen, who were peering at him, obviously disdainfully bored. James could just tell they were Ministry seniors: every minute detail was meticulously in place for them: they were all immaculately dressed, spotlessly shaved, pristinely combed and rigidly postured. They all trailed that stuffy old senior musk about after them, injecting it painfully into every detailed proceeding of their boring, routeined lives. James felt himself automatically straighten to his full height and fastened what he sincerely hoped was an expression of biting scorn about his face. He was yet to discover anything in this world that severely annoyed to the extent of blind violence than a rigid adherence to rules. And with these men present, there might just be a massacre, thought James grimly.

"Ah. Good evening, Mr. Potter." James twisted his head around, unsure of who had spoken. "Ahem, over here, boy." His eyes settled upon a man who's appearance James found at once a very welcomed relief from the ministry senior's. He had along trailing beard which was streaked with age and gold-rimmed glasses perched before two beady, calculating eyes. But it was the mood that rocketed from him that cast him apart from the others circling him; of harshness and resilience which James immediately found intriguing.

"Well, Harry!" he said genially. "This is the first chance I've had to speak to you face to face since Dumbledore's funeral!"

James blinked. "Excuse me, _what_!" he said.

The man laughed heartily, slapping James upon the back. "Sense of humour still intact then, eh? After all those furious battles and such, we all thought some part of you would be missing! Yes." he replied to James' startled look to the word 'battle'. His son was in _battles_?

"We know all about your battles." the man's tone was suddenly menacing. He looked coldly down his nose at James, whose eyes darted towards a space between two of the seniors. A nice Stunning spell wouldn't go amiss right about now. The man bent his face towards James', until they were about an inch apart. James could see his own nervous reflection in the man's evilly glinting spectacles.

"Send Death Eaters to Azkaban, will you? You're 17! You're no Auror and you never will be! Just tell me what you're after. Oh, yes, we do have powers of deduction, young Potter!" he snarled venomously, wrongly interpreting James expression again. " These so-called "battles" are taking place in highly unusual places. Then Death Eaters miraculously pop out of nowhere and attempt to stop you, whatever you're doing! Why?" his keen eyes shone brightly and his brow furrowed deeply in anger. "_What are they trying to stop you finding_? You don't have to be uncommonly intelligent to notice you are searching for something!"

James couldn't help himself. "Well, I guess that's good thing for you, then isn't it?" I said rudely, and pushed his way savagely through the tight knot of old men. The moment James had said that, they all started muttering and 'hrmph!'ing. James didn't care. He had a nasty niggling feeling he had just insulted someone very important, but that wasn't his worry. Harry, his _son _could deal with it.

Now, for the first time, James could actually get a good view of the surroundings. He was in a long stone -walled room, which was centred with a large scrubbed wooden table, laden with dishes and frying pans and capable of seating more than James could be bothered counting. A hearty fire spread merrily crackling flames up and warmth around the room, which was crowded with an odd jumble of people.

There were the stuffy old men, and _that _old man, pulling on cloaks and throwing him filthy looks. But there were also an assortment of interesting-looking grown wizards, laughing and toasting for something around the room, slapping each others backs gaily and contributing to the low cheerful rumble that suffused the room in glorious sync with the cheery warm firelight. James immediately felt a grin unfurl upon his face. . It wasn't at all like he remembered Grimmauld Place, but he felt content here, like he had known these people all his life, though actually not knowing anyone. He adjusted Harry's belt irritably. Didn't this kid have any clothes that fitted?

His eye was then caught by a strange looking man, who was beckoning covertly to him without looking in his direction. James glanced behind him to see if it was really him the man wanted, then , upon finding the space behind him empty, walked over to the drinks table before the man and pretended to fix himself a drink. The man ,wearing an uptight expression and reflective aviators, kelt forward upon the pretence of collecting an empty cup and whispered to James :"Sorry about Scrimgeour. Awfully controlling, eh?"

He then nodded furtively with a grim expression towards the dark empty part of the room at a pantry. Cottoning on, James nodded as well, and, feeling important and spy-like, meandered indifferently over to it. The man slunk across the room, opened the walk-in pantry's door, pushed James inside, and closed himself in afterwards.

Then he turned to James, his uptight face relaxing into a gracious smile. "Well done! _Well done_! You've found it! We are all exceedingly thrilled with the news. Sorry about Scrimgeour again. He's getting suspicious of Tonks, Twives, Kingsley and me, so, what better way than to test our Anti-Order resolute than visit its headquarters? He made us all come as a _guard_, but…"

James stared bemusedly at the man. What was he on about?

"Sure he's on to us…anyway." he lit his wand with a flourish, and his smile widened gradually, as though he had forgotten how it's done. James noticed a band around the man's wrist as he raised his wand, it was spangled with little red stars…."All this concealment...but I had to talk to you. Just you let you know…we're going to back you!"

He looked expectantly at James, as thought this statement was hinged with significance and it should have elicited a exclamation of wild immoral joy from James. But the most he could manage was a small awkward smile.

This obviously wasn't the desired affect the man was going for. Hissmile drooped and his mouth slid back into it's habitual stiff line. "Well, thought you'd be happier. I mean, that's a great risk I'm taking here. Gambling everything we've got on some 17 year old kid's hunch…But I'm gonna do it. We're gonna do it!" he smiled painfully again and James was terrified to see tears sparkling in his eyes from the light of the wand. "We're gonna defeat him." he said croakily. "Just tell us when you need us and where, and we'll be there. Ready to put all our live son the line for _you_." he petered out, apparently too caught up in emotion to speak.

"Er, thanks."

The man's smile wobbled, and he began chocking and sobbing in an entirely un-manly manner, completely unfit for someone of his height or carriage, as James found out as the man broke down upon his shoulder, blubbering incoherently. A stunned James patted his back, his own feeling as though it were slowly snapping under the man's weight-

"What _are _you doing?" came a voice as the pantry's door was ripped open and light flooded them. A girl with bushy brown hair stood before them, hands upon her hips, a look of amusement thinly veneered as curiosity upon her face. She looked from James, whose hands were nursing his spinal chord, to the man, who had bolted upright the moment the door was opened and was now wiping tears from beneath his aviators.

"Nothing, nothing Ms. Granger. Just…just a bit of Heighland Star patriotism." he cleared his throat and excused himself, walking extremely erectly back to his post by the drink's table.

The girl - Granger - watched him go with a slight smirk upon her face, then turned to face James, the smirk growing. "Well. How very emotional."

He narrowed his eyes contemptuously at her, but she merely laughed. "C'mon, Ginny's looking for you, and you haven't had dinner yet."

He allowed himself to be steered towards the scrubbed wooden table, which was laden with dishes , all wafting enticing warming aromas over him.

James' stomach ached longingly. He had skipped breakfast as he had overheard two girls remarking that Evans was going to spend the whole Hogsmead trip day in the Gryffindor tower, so he scampered up there to find her…..he sighed. If only he wasn't such a generous, loving person, none of this would have happened…

"So, what did Zeichman want?" muttered Granger to him out of the corner of her mouth whilst ladling spoonfuls of creamy tomato soup into a bowl.

"I dunno." murmured James. He walked away from her and towards an utterly sumptuous-looking Shepard's pie that was calling beguilingly to him…

"Harry!"

Ginny rushed forward and grasped him by the elbow. Then she breathed quietly: "These are your best friends. Just talk to them for a few minuets and then I'll have you upstairs with Lily and ,Sirius." Then, the tall, red-haired boy who had thrown him so unceremoniously into the old men knot appeared and Ginny hushed up.

"Harry!" he said desperately, dragging James over to a quiet corner, and, most unfortunately away from the enchanting pie. "_What did he want_?" Granger appeared at the boy's shoulder, peering nervously at James. He looked from one face to another, both shining with eagerness and a certain trepidation.

"Nothing." said James simply. "He just apologised about that old man, and started crying-" -here, the tall, red-haired boy shot the girl an amused look- "-and then Granger here butted in. Simple. Now, if you'll excuse me, there's a rather eye-catching pie over there that is in desperate need of my attention. Then, Ginny here and I shall call it a nightcap! Cheerio!" And with that he walked off, Ginny in tow, leaving the two looking like they had just been unexpectedly bludgeoned with a frying pan.

"_James_! That wasn't nice! They are his best friends, and they think _he's _being rude to them, now aren't they!" hissed Ginny the moment they were out of earshot.

"Well, that's _his _fault for not being conscious." James said indifferently, and, with relish, took up a knife and began slicing the attractive pie.

"Would you mind cutting me a piece too Harry? Looks rather good, doesn't it." James looked up. A man met is gaze. A man with kind eyes and light brown hair frosted with grey…..though, James could clearly remember it all brown…..

"Moony?" James stammered, letting the knife fall with a clatter. The man's smile dropped in surprise. His eyes then darted to James' forehead. Panic and shock sprang upon his face.

"I'm sorry, Lupin. Harry's really rather sick, and needs to be off to bed right this minuet!" said Ginny loudly, and she clasped James by the shoulders and forcibly steered him through the party and towards the door. Scrimgeour and the stuffy old men were still in the corner, looking more than ready to leave. As Ginny and James exited, he distinctly heard one say: "For a prophetic hero, he doesn't have very good manners."

Only once they were climbing the dark staircase back to the Time-Keepers room, did James ask.

"Lupin. Is was Remus, then?"

Ginny, who had her back to him as she ascended the stairs, took a moment in answering. "Yes. It was him. Oh, James, he knows! He knows it's you and you _must _promise me you'll all stay away from him."

"What? Why?" asked James, hurt he couldn't even talk to this new, all-grown-up Moony.

"Because. He just doesn't need this. No-one needs this."

They gained the landing, and upon entering the Time-Keeper's room, James ascertained one fact: Harry, his _son, _was conscious again. He was sitting in the chair James had been in before, and rose as they entered. Lily and Sirius, James observed, had been sitting before the boy's feet as though listening to him regale them with some heroic tale. A tale from one of your battles, James thought disdainfully. He had been his son for only a brief while but it had been enough to prompt him to believe the boy was working as some sort of unlawful criminal spy with the likes of that creep Zeichman. Lily slowly got to her feet as well and joined James at he door. She looped her hand through his arm. But James was too incensed to notice…

They all seemed to dislike him, James thought bitterly, he must be horrible. He must be….

Harry stepped before his father and looked him squarely in the eye. He had a hard intense look riding face. "I've been dreaming of this moment my entire life." he said in a tight voice, casting his eyes downward. "And, now that it's here….I'm speechless. I…" his voice broke, and he slowly reached out and collected both Lily and James in a hug that seemed neither awkward or inappropriate. James felt his disillusioned contempt float away. He could hear Evans quietly sobbing to his left. When they broke apart, James looked the boy fully in the face. Exactly like me, he though, except…except he's got her eyes…

"Please." Evan's voice broke and wavered into the warm silence as she spoke. "Tell us what happened. Everything."

Aw! Soo bloody emo...tional! Well, i really oughta rush off to bed as it's currently (consults watch) 2:46am. So, if theres any speelig mistks, blame it purely on the hour! Bahha! So, everyone who reads this PLEASE REVIEW! i dont want to sound desperate, but i NEED to know if you guys like where it's headed! SO REVIEW FOR FLIPS SAKE! GOSH! bahaha! tune in next time! xoxoxoxox

PS. btw ced, your virtual cookie dough is inherrently no use to me. Neither can i devour it or cook it. Trust me, i've tried dismally.


	7. A feathery doona and alot of questions

Many a happy christmas and New Year greetings to everyone out there in fan ficcer's land! I know i haven't updated for a while...purely due to the season and the entailing festivities (which i will not get into because my head still hurts from it) and i feel really bad for it but... HERE'S A NEW CHAPPIE! REJOICE WITH SEASONAL SPIRIT! Bhaha! Well, anyhoo...This is an explaining chappie, because i realised i was dropping so many hints. eventually Id have to trawl through them all again and answer some. So, read away my filthy monkeys!

_DISCLAIMER_: My current background on my comp is of me and my bestie in Hogwarts robes, violently brandishing wands. It looks as though it could have been taken at Hogwarts, if you ignore the ugly thorny plant struggling to grow out of a crack in the sidewalk in the background! Well, it fully looks as though we have total domination over HPtm, which is really neat and explains my toothy grin. Yet, alas! We do not. Said photo was taken outside premier of Gof. But perhaps if i flourish it around people will _think_ i own Hptm...think of the riches!

_Beguile your senses..._

Harry stared at her with a hardened, pained expression. Lily saw his hands spring together and begin to work themselves into knots in a worried manner. He stepped back, surveying them both through those bright green eyes…_my eyes_. Lily felt her head spin in a nauseous pirouette and clamped a shaking hand to it.

James laid an arm around her shoulders and steered her into the splintered chair. "Look, it's great and everything to meet you, Harry, but could you just stop freaking Evans out? I don't think her delicate spirit can withstand much more."

"I'm not purposely trying to freak you out!" said Harry, in a voice he was so obviously trying to keep steady it made some part of Lily ache. "I just... really need to clarify some things with you guys. And _you _obviously _need _clarification!" he pointed sternly at James, who crossed his arms with apparent disdain, and added an eye roll for measure.

Lily noticed there was a glaring difference in the way each boy spoke. Harry had a care-free, lilting rhythm to his voice that demonstrated he was on equal ground with all. Yet James' voice had an upper-class infliction that stretched the vowels and spoke cleanly of a wealthy upbringing.

Harry stared stonily back at James for a second. Then his eyes darted to what he was wearing. "Why are you wearing my clothes?" he asked slowly.

James looked sheepish. "Let me regale you with that story some other time. Right now_, I need some answers_!"

Harry stepped back from and around James to the door, putting an ear to it and listening intently.

"Look, I think we're going to have to move from here, as this is a direct thoroughfare for the bedrooms and if anyone were to hear anything, they just might gather what's going on and that could be...well, terrible." he finished simply, proffering an arm to Lily which she gratefully accepted.

Harry moved them all up to a spare room on the 3rd floor which was directly beside the one Harry was sharing with a friend named Ron. James commented snidely that the room's position made it highly susceptible to snooping parents -"Or who ever is running things in this house!"- to which Harry calmly replied that there was less of a chance of them being sprung here by 'parents' as the 'parents' are more concerned with the Order's dealings then spying fanatically upon the younger charges personal lives, to which James replied for Harry to shut up.

There was a tense moment as they dashed to the new upstairs hide-out when one of the many doors lining the gloomy, dusty hallways opened unexpectantly a they were rushing frantically past, and Sirius' head had a painful meeting with it. Another head poked out from behind it: a freckled red head with a mischievous face, a toolbox, and a mouthful of nails. He grinned as Sirius stumbled, muttering venomously and slightly-cross eyed.

Spitting out the nails into his hand (James looked revolted), he laughed. "Sorry, guys! You'd want to be a tad quieter. Don't run so much as people can hear you!"

Ginny stepped forward and matter-of-factly kicked the boy's shin. "Ron we've got to run, you prat!" she hissed. "What's with the toolbox and nails?"

"Oh, I'm fixing that damn window in our Plotting Room , Harry. That's the last time I get my arm stuck in there, I can tell you that!"

Harry smiled and Ginny groaned as they caught up to the others, who were already upon the next flight of stairs, not particularly wanting to be apprehended due to the boy's loud laugh and voice.

Finally, they were all shut inside the new room (which James whined unhelpfully was much to small and that teenagers need space to spread out or else there would be territorial fights to the death.) Ginny ducked out and returned a few minuets later arms loaded with fluffy feather doonas and pillows, which she laid out invitingly upon the floor. Lily gave a sigh of delight and collapsed onto the nearest one.

She was all of a sudden over come with a deep sluggish lethargy, and thought if she were to lie undisturbed for a few hours of heavy sleep, the cumbersome weight that had settled awkwardly upon her shoulders since this had all happened would somehow twist into smoke and she'd wake up to her own dormitory, glazed with drowsy early morning light, and tell her friends of this absurd dream she had had...she'd laugh carelessly about it...

"Evans, get up! We're getting our questions answered!" said Sirius' loud voice smugly.

Lily groaned a muffled groan into the smothering doona, and nestled her head face-down into the pillow. She could hear everyone else talking over her.

"Ok! So, what shall we ask them first!" Lily could tell just by James' equally smug voice he was pacing around, circling his prey to make sure they couldn't escape. "_Are you really my son_?"

"James! Don't waste our question!" snapped Sirius.

Lily heard a relaxed chuckle and the tug of the doona as someone perched themselves at her feet. "Yes, I am. Well, that goes without saying as I am your twin!" came Harry's voice from the end of the doona.

"You are not!" huffed James. "I am an inch taller, you have a funny nose, you don't talk at _all _like me-" (-"In other words, you don't talk like a snob." Lily heard Sirius whisper cheerfully to Harry.) "And, you have a dirty great scar on your forehead, and you have _her _eyes!" he finished triumphantly. "See, you are not me!"

There was a slight pause in which everyone sniggered slightly to themselves. "I didn't say I was you. I'm like you. That's all, because you're my fath-"

"Don't _say _that! Please, if you use that word, I will be prompted into some kind of murderous, bloody rampage that will join the word 'massacre' onto this house's name and make it forever infamous."

Lily heard Sirius snicker from nearby. "Like it already isn't! For one of the Black's to live here would make it more infamous than a massacre ever could hope for in it's wildest dreams. But over 20 generations?" he snuffed in loathsome thoughts of his family. "I'm surprised this place isn't on one of those : 'Most Infamous Places In London' brochures."

"There's a 'Most Infamous Places In London' brochure?" asked an interested Ginny.

"Might be. But I just said that because no-one else is saying anything and I hate silences. What's up James? You had all these questions you were imploding to ask, now you resemble some sort of stuffed elf."

"Ok, then." came James voice from Lily's right. She was glad to hear he had stopped circling Harry in a territorial, animal way. "Where are the Blacks, then?"

"Gone." said Ginny simply from Lily's left. "Your mother died a long time ago, and she was the last one left. I'm sorry." she added sympathetically.

"YES!" trumpeted Sirius. Lily heard frenzied foot taps, and James say in a dignified voice: "Now really, Sirius. Dancing in the wake of such news is socially unacceptable and can be deemed rather rude."

Suddenly, there was a sharp rap on the door. Lily snapped her head up. Sirius ceased his dancing in mid-pose, looking like a rather comical statuette.

"Uh-oh." squeaked Ginny. Quick as a flash, she leapt up from her spot on the floor, seized the doorknob and inched the door open only a tiny bit. She then pressed her eye against it. Lily had stopped breathing. This was it! They were going to be sprung! This was -

"MUM! What _- what do you want_?"

"Do not take that tone with me, young lady!" chided the voice of motherly-sounding woman. "I heard loud voices, and came to investigate-"

"Well, investigate Ron. He could be an opera singer with those lungs."

"I heard _alot _of voices!"

"Of course you would have!"

"Oh really?"

"Yeah! Harry and I are role-playing a scene from...a play."

"Wow! She's a quality liar!" whispered an impressed James. Harry smiled slightly.

The mother sounded delighted. "You are, are you? How imaginative!"

"It requires various changes in our voices as there are several characters and Ron and Hermione laughed cruelly at us when we suggested going through it."

"Well, I'll leave you two at it. But I'll have a word to Ron and Hermione about joining in. What fun, a play!" And tittering happily to herself, the mother bustled away from the doorway, leaving a calm Ginny to snap the door shut and resume her spot on the floor.

"That was really something!" gushed Sirius admiringly.

"It's a talent." said Ginny sagely.

"Anyway" prompted James. "Moving _away _from the midget's acting ability...-" (Ginny glared poisonously at him) "-who's using this place now? Apart- apart from the rodents, it would appear."

"The Order is using it." said Harry.

"That's great!" said James. "Because we know who or what the Order is and everything.."

"There's no need to be rude!" said Ginny rather rudely in James direction. He suddenly quietened down.

"The Order are those working against Voldemort. Their aim is to destabilise him and bring hope and peace to wizards everywhere." Harry said seriously. Lily could tell, just from his voice, he believed so firmly in this Order, giving his life for their cause would not trouble him at all.

Lily smiled into the fat pillow her face was cushioned upon. His loyalty and allegiance of that magnitude must have stemmed from somewhere...and the only thing James was passionate about was Quidditch and making those he didn't like miserable. And she was to have a child with someone like _that_? Lily scruched her eyes up into the pillow and immediately began to hose down _those _thoughts before they could ignite and engulf her in a smoke of nausea again.

"And this is their...headquarters?" asked Sirius slowly.

"Yes." replied Ginny, who's voice was unusually sombre. "It's the best place for it, as it has so many concealment charms, et al. You know what I mean Sirius! Installed by your father, weren't they?"

"How did you know that?" asked Sirius in the same slow, careful voice.

"Because you told us." said Harry.

There was a deep, tight silence. Lily could suddenly hear thudding of a hammer downstairs.

"_I _told you?" gasped Sirius." But I've never...before...you all...I...I _know you here_?"

Harry took a moment in answering, and when he did, he spoke in a voice cinched with emotion. "You were my godfather."

"Thanks, James. You couldn't handle the responsibility of being a father alone, so you try to foist some onto me." Sirius sighed dramatically. "He wasn't even my kid, and you try to dump parental duties on me! Nice going, Prongs." Harry was silent.

_The pair of them are as bad as each other_, thought Lily irritably, _they can never take anything seriously..._

" Well, I see you've obviously done alot of inner work on yourself since you were your age." Harry stated coldly.

"So, where am I right now?" asked Sirius, quite unfazed by Harry's jibe at him.

"You're dead." replied Harry flatly.

Lily heard Sirius spring to his feet. "Dead? You...you cannot be serious? Me? Dead? I...I.." he laughed in a jaggard, panicky manner. "I cannot be dead." he finished pleadingly.

"I'm afraid so." came Ginny's voice, and she too sounded cold. "2 years ago."

"Well, what about us?" cried James. "Where are Lily and I?"

"You guys are-"

"On a mission for the Order." Harry intercepted Ginny swiftly. "You've been gone for about 3 months now while I've been at school. The Weasley's take me during holidays, that sort of thing."

"We just left you!" Lily sat up abruptly and turned over, glaring at Harry. He was sitting by her feet, fingers splayed in his dark hair, glaring stonily back. "I can't believe we'd do that to you! I mean, how awful! We must be terrible mother and father!"

"There we go with those parental-responsibility-implying words again. Can we please just steer clear of them? I've warned everyone already about this..." grumbled James.

"No." croaked Harry, and he gave Lily a taut smile. "You guys are great parents."

"_Don't say that word_!" hissed James, resuming his defensive circling. "Stop purposely trying to disrespect me! You aren't so great! I've heard things...everyone has something against you because you're some sort of...spy-ie, secretive, spy-like...spy-guy! So, the jig is up! Tell us what you're really up to!"

Harry stared perplexedly at him for a few moments, then Ginny rushed forwards and whispered something in his ear, which made him smile wanly.

"So, you met Scrimgeour and Zeichman?" he asked James, still smiling as Ginny backed away.

"Yes!" James snarled "And that old guy is _not _pleased with you!"

"Well, why would he be? I've been running around and fighting alot behind his back. Of course he's upset. Upset because he isn't in the thick of things. Upset that the Order is finally getting recognition for their work while the Ministry are left looking like obsolete old toads!" Harry laughed happily, and James and Sirius exchanged mystified looks.

"As for Zeichman, he's the leader of the Heighland Star, the biggest organised auror and dark-fighters syndicate in Europe. He's currently working from within the Ministry to pull others into the Order, keep Scrimgeour from prodding in too far, and perform other little heroic acts I can't account for."

"Well, that's super that you like him so much, because he's '_going to back you_!' " said James snidely.

The colour abruptly bled from Harry's face. Ginny jolted erectly upright from where she was lying upon the floor. "REALLY?" she screamed happily, then bounded over to Harry and hurled her arms around his neck. Harry choked, his glasses askew as she joyfully trilled: "Oh! _Harry_, isn't that _wonderful_? What are you going to do?"

"I'm sure he'd tell you if you ceased strangling him." Sirius pointed out.

"It's _excellent_!" Harry gasped. "I really can't believe it...we'll go tell Ron and Hermione now."

"Hey, what about us and our questions?" asked James, standing up in territorial mode again.

"And our dinner." piped up Lily.

But Harry and Ginny had already torn out the door, their happily frenzied voices echoing down the stairs and then growing distant.

"Gits." grumbled James.

Many a gleeful 'teehee's! Im sorry this chappie was'nt as intense as the last one, but bear with me! Well, in generous transports of Christmas spirit, can EVERYONE who reads this please review? Pretty please? You can make it my xmas prezzie! I just LOVE getting feedback,so ...review review review review! Kindly appreciated! Until next time! xoxoxoxoxox


	8. A belated dinner and an odd meeting

Ahoy there all! Holidays are nearly over (sob) so i might find it a bit hard to update regularly from february onwards. Tradgic, yes. But i am starting senior and i really do not want to end up a bum. i shall be knuckling down with my studies! Ewww...(dramactic sigh) Anyhooo...hope everyone enjoys this chappie and i love everyone who is reading my story and reviewing! Lots of bright shiny glorious love being sent your way!

DISCLAIMER: On the news today, they had this whole segment on the Luna Lovegood audtions, and most of the girls trying out who were interviewed had better luck finding a leprechan on their shoulder than winning the part. See, if i owned HP tm, i would give the part to some really awesome chick who deserves it, not those starry-eyed girls who were being interviewed. I mean, one girl had jet balck hair! Come on! But, alas i dont own Hptm, as you all know. Another tragedy. God, my life is a Shakespear play.

_Have a sackful of fun! Here we go..._

After Harry and Ginny had rushed from the room and left the other three in rather miserable, hungry and (in James' case) vengeful states, they all slid beneath the fluffy doonas and decided the best way to make this awful day end quickly was to put it from their minds and try to sleep.

Indeed, this proved to be a harder thing to accomplish then they first thought, as when they had extinguished all the oil-lanterns, darkness had enveloped them so snugly one could not see their own hand before their eyes, and the atmosphere was calm, drowsy and perfect to induce sleep, James' voice kept piping up in unexpected eruptions of aloud-wonderings:

"Do you think they're getting us dinner? I jolly well hope so, as I think I speak for us all when I say I'm so ravenous, I'd take on a chimera if the reward was food."

"Why is this house so quiet? Were'nt they having some sort of party before? Odd time to have a party, in the afternoon. But it's nearly nightfall now. It must be over."

"Who here thinks that Harry kid is a berk?"

"Well, please Sirius, if I were to achieve sleep, it would rather impossible with your elbow in my mouth."

"Oh! James _do _shut up! Or I'll shove my elbow so far down your thoart you'll digest it!"

After the threat, James fell mercifully silent, and, one by one, they all slid off into a heavy sleep.

Meanwhile, Harry had been in his Plotting Room with Ginny, Hermione and Ron, going over the whole fiasco. Ron deemed the story as the funniest he'd heard in a long time and made Harry retell the part of James assuming his place at the dinner-party so many times Harry had to growl a fierce "no!" at him the 6th time he asked.

Hermione said nothing but pinched up her face into a worried expression and started an odd mechanical pacing about the empty room with heavy, pensive footfalls. She almost seemed upon the point of telling him off a few times, and at one place, got so uncomfortably near to it that he suggested loudly (and without reason, as they had barely discussed, let alone plotted, anything) that they should all be it bed by now. Of course, Harry had another reason….but he had no yet told any one apart from Ginny as he was sure that other two would not approve. Then, helpfully, Mrs. Weasley's voice thundered down from the above floor and reminded them all of their need for sleep.

"But it's only a quarter to nine!" protested Ron to Harry, as though he were the mother he had to appeal the bed time curfew to.

"Early to bed, early to rise! That's the way to go!" said Ginny cheerfully, tipping Harry an obvious wink, and steering her grumpy brother out of the room. (-"So Harry put _you _up to _this_!"-) "Coming Hermione?" she called from the hall.

Hermione gave Harry a cold, knowing look, and swept out silently to join the others with her head held at a rather snobbish angle . When Harry was sure he had heard two pairs of doors slam above, he exhaled and proceeded to the shadowy kitchen which, by then, was thankfully devoid of all party goers.

The reason the Order had held a dinner-party in the early afternoon, as Harry knew, was because they had many things to prepare for the next day, and wanted a last chance of merry frivolous splendour with their friends as they were all not certain of what the next day would bring: grave ruefulness or the happy invitations of another party. The slumbering James, Lily and Sirius upstairs did not know this though, and simply thought the Order strange, absurdly passionate people with odd celebrational tactics.

He stole some cold corned beef, a few thick slices of doughy bread, and a flask of water, stowed them stealthily beneath his robes, and set off with a brisk, guilty pace for his 'parents' bedroom. As he was tiptoe-ing down the silent black halls, a door creaked suddenly open and a figure unfolded themselves from within; a figure displaying all similar traits of intentionally appiled stealth; a figure which blindly collided with an unaware Harry, and sent him sprawling noisily into a costly poircelain vase and its flattering pedistol. The tell-tale crash would have been enough to wake the entire house.

"Run!" Harry wisely advised the other culprit, and the two blundered forwards down the hall, ignoring inquiring calls and irritated shouts for sleepable silence.

Harry and the other did not stop until they were right outside the 'others' room, heaving and panting.

"Lucky we weren't caught, eh?" gasped Harry.

"Lucky? What I call lucky, Harry, is the fact you have managed to keep disappearing off to _this _room without anyone inquiring as to why all of you suddenly have chosen _this _room as your new home!" and Harry realised, with a thrill of recognistion, the hoarse voice and tall black form blotted out by darkness before him.

Lupin.

He had lead Lupin directly to them!

"Lupin! I ..er...I," stammered Harry, inwardly blessing the darkness for shrouding Lupin's expression as he was sure it would be not be agreeable. "You really mustn't go in! I mean, well…" ( what was he to tell him? Very well not the truth, as he was sure some sort of cardic arrest would ensue. So, he took a leaf from Ginny's book.) "Ginny and are experimenting with noxious gases, and we've left the room to …well, ferment overnight, you see. And if you were to open this door, you would most certainly be treated to several hours of toxically induced sleep!"

This ridiculous lie was treated with a few awful seconds of unimpressed silence from Lupin, who then reached a sarcastic hand towards the doorknob, and wordlessly pushed it open.

When they entered, the sounds woke Lily up from her deep pleasant sleep and she grinned bemusedly at them for a moment or two. She had been having a wonderful dream that she was back at school, cackling madly with her friends about this other funny dream she had had …then her groggy mind registered Lupin's face (as he was one of those people who retain the same shaped, featured and charactered face all through out their lives, and although he had some wrinkles, they did not affect his overall countenance. Others aren't as lucky.) and she was suddenly as alert as if she'd been awake for hours.

She shed the feathery doona, and walked, ever so slowly, up to Lupin. Then there was a rather emotional moment as they both hugged and there were a few tears shed (chiefly Lily's) and Harry stood awkwardly close-by, concertrating on his shoes. No-one, not even Lupin, had told Harry he, Lupin, and his mother were great friends.

After these greeted had died down, Harry proudly produced the dinner the had stolen from the kitchen and was rather happy when Lily hugged him lavishly and ripped into the corned beef. After this meal (she had left hardly any for Sirius and James, but no-one seemed to pay this fact very much attention.) she turned to Harry and grasped his hands in her own. Everyone had gone sombre and quiet and Harry had the feeling she was about to put foreward something that had been dragging on her mind.

"Harry," she said in a small, pale voice, "please help me find my family. That was the reason we used that horrible portrait in the first place and now this is all unravelling around us! But, you are my son! My family is your family right?"- (Here, Harry made an indistinct noise at the back of his throat)- " So, you would know where they are! Please, take me to my mother. She'll help." Although Lily was not entirely sure that last statement was perfectly true, it sounded impressive and dignified, and, to her, that's what a mother should sound like.

Harry wore a glum expression and avoided Lily's eyes. Lupin was quite silent.

Finally, Harry unstuck his throat. Still not looking her directly in the eyes he muttered: "Sure. But I have other business to take care of tonight." Here he shot Lupin a swift glance, which was reciprocated with a nod. "You wouldn't mind having to sit through that, would you?"

He was half-hoping she'd find the very mention of 'business' boring and tedious, and therefore speedily withdraw her demand and scuttle off to bed again.

But, this thought was spiralling in the head of a boy who had only known the girl who the assumption was made about a year, and that year he had spent swaddled in swaddling and being talked to in unintelligible baby-talk, not asking hardy character-assessing questions of his mother. That being said, Lilly Evans was not the girl Harry had her picked out as.

"Of course! That won't be problem at all!" She got to her feet from the floor and swirled her cloak around her shoulders. "That is if Lupin will be so kind as to look after the reluctant-father and disobliging-godfather here." Lupin smiled and glanced at the bundled mass of sprawling blankets that were the boys. "Why, of course!" he replied.

"Well, then that's settled!" she clapped her hands together in delight (here, Harry also smiled) then proffered an arm to Harry, and when he had hesitantly accepted it, said: "So, onwards to my mother! Lead the way!"

Here, I could describe Harry and Lilly's tip-toed venture through the house and out into the garden to Dissapperate (the reason being the Anti-Dissapperation charm, which had been purposely crashed by Hermione a few days before as a means to go, hinder-free, to confront unspeakables (but that is another story) and now it was once again up and powerful, so the front lawn was their Dissapperation point) but nothing very eventful happened, so I would rather go back to what happened after Lily and Harry left the room.

Lupin, who was feeling spirited and 16-ish, sat down beside his two sleeping charges and wistfully took in what ever parts of their faces were not burrowed deeply into feathery doonas.

He had not seen Sirius's face for over 2 years now, and James…he had not seen James' in 16.

But at that inopportune moment, James elected to wake up.

All he saw was a forlorn-looking figure, swallowed up by menacing darkness, hunched over both he and Sirius. And, naturally, James did the thing that our primal instincts tell us to do in such a sticky situation.

He screamed bloody murder!

Grabbing Sirius roughly by the collar of his crushed robes, he hauled him to the opposite side of the room, just as a frightened voice called through the door: "HARRY! Oh! Harry, I heard you scream! What ever is the matter? Death Eaters! Oh! Arther, dear! Death Eaters! Upstairs! Hurry!."

But as they heard many footsteps thunder up the stairs, Lupin stuck his head out of the door and said calmly: "Molly, there is absolutely nothing to worry about! Harry and I were just discussing a few things for the rendezvous tonight, and he was taken by surprise by a rodent. Nothing to worry about at all!"

"Moony!" whispered James joyfully to Sirius. "It's Moony!"

Sirius peered at the shadowy figure critically. "It's too tall to be Moony."

James ignored him.

"Remus! Oh! Do let me see him, poor thing! They're everywhere in this house." came the motherly voice from outside the door. Lupin looked over his shoulder at James, and, by the wand-light cast by all the curious people huddled outside, James saw him beckon him over.

He slapped on an unconvincing grin of feigned normality, and walked across the room to join Lupin. "Haha! I'm such a fool, Molly!" he laughed jovially, taking in faces as he did so. The motherly -sounding voice transpired to belong to a very motherly-looking kindly witch, who was wearing a frightened expression and a thick woollen dressing gown.

Next to her stood the man who James gathered to be Arthur, a tall balding wizard who was still looking jerkily over his shoulder for approaching Death-Eaters.

"Yes, no trouble here! Back to bed, everyone, back to bed!" he called to the small throng of the house's inhabitants which had congregated outside the room. "Yes, you're all very alert and quick on the uptake! If this were the real thing, those pesky Death-Eaters wouldn't stand a chance!" he called again, simply to boost everyone's moral, and he thought it would have been the sort of corny thing Harry would have come out with.

"Very well," said Molly, who was looking far more relieved now. "Off to bed then soon boys!"

"Goodnight, Molly!" said James. Molly arched an eyebrow at him, before turning away and shuffling downstairs with the rest.

They slammed the door shut, and all let out a collective breath. Then James straightened himself and turned towards Lupin. "Well done Moony! I see you've been taking lessons from the red-haired midget, no doubt!" then his smile faltered as Lupin's grew. "You're grown up," he said mournfully. "You're not a kid anymore…"

"I know, and neither were you when I said goodbye to you."

"When I went on that mission thingo?" asked James, observing Lupin as closely as he could through the darkness.

Lupin hesitated a second, then picked himself up as though nothing was the matter. "Yes, that was it." Fortunately, the darkness was so swallowing, James did not make out the tears in Lupins eyes as he said it.

"Whoa, that was close!" said James. "We want out of this place! You've got the fully-grown brain here, Moony, so deal us a stroke of adult brilliance. What can we do?"

Sirius had picked himself up off the floor, and joined them. He was covertly sneaking glances at Lupin's considerable height. Seeing as Sirius had always secretly prided himself on being the tallest member of the group, he was not liking this newly-tall Lupin at all. But James had already accepted Lupin as the Moony he knew: his advisor, and he grinned up at Lupin, his eyes bright with pleasure at having his friend by his side, regardless of height and wrinkles.

"You could always go back to the Time-keeper and plead for you riddle." Lupin suggested. "We have been trying to negotate with him for an extremely long amount of time, but he will not budge in his decision not to help us. He says we're too rude to him. So, why not go grovel to him? Flatter him, you know? You're well accustomed to that sort of thing James"- (Here, James smiled gloatingly)- " I'm sure you'd be able to wheedle it out of him."

"Jolly good idea, ol' pal! We shall embark on that right his minuet!" and with out another word, James slid out of the door and into the pitch-black corridor, leaving Sirius and Lupin to follow. It was tense trip downstairs to the Time-keepers room, as now the alarm had been raised , the inhabitants of the house had their vigilant ears pricked and tuned to the corridors, listening for any intruders of such.

A horrible minuet occurred when a someone poked their head around their door, as the three must have been making an excess of noise, but they blended in perfectly with the shadows, and the head was withdrawn a moment later.

Down in the Time-keepers room, Sirius performed his spell to awaken him, but then he proceeded to make very loud yawns which in turn made everyone very nervous. James then grovelled accordingly, hitting the Time-keeper with compliment after compliment in a very awe-inspiring manner, untill the old portrait finally cracked with a chuckle of delight.

"Ok, ok! I'll tell you! How did I ever think you rude? Let me see, let me see…," and from the bottom of his picture he plucked out a little red-leather bound book. "The Riddle For Mr. James Potter is:…(he cleared his throat in a pompous, dignified manner):

"_His taste, a dob, eat slide, at heart."_

"Hah ah!" laughed James, and he looked over his shoulder as to encourage the other two to also laugh. "That _was _funny! Now, please tell me the riddle."

"Why, boy that was it!" said the Time-keeper. "That's what you have to solve to get back to your own time!"

James opened and closed his mouth several times. "You're joking." he croaked. "But…but it makes absolutely _no sense_!"

"That's why it's a riddle, boy!" said the Time-keeper smugly.

"Git." grumbled James. "That's what flattery and adualtion gets you nowadays!"

------------------------o0o----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

At this point, I must put an unfortunate stop in James' story, and revert back to Lily (who was not at all sitting and twiddling her thumbs.)

Harry had told her that he had to make the important meeting foremost, then, after the tiresome dull business was out of the way (he was saying this as a last ditch attempt to dissuade her from joining him.) they would then proceed to her mother.

At this, Lily took a deep breath and smiled awkwardly at Harry. He looked so much like James to her, she kept forgetting she was in another's company. "Certainly!" she said, though couldn't help noticing Harry was looking still more grave and sober with every passing second. "But… what ever is the matter?" she asked sharply.

He raised his eyes level to hers. "Nothing." he murmured, and he stepped into the middle of the dirty road. "Coming?"

She walked erectly to join him. "So, where are we off to first?"

This, time, Harry definitely did not meet her eyes.

"Number 34, Spinner's End."

Dum dum duuummmmm (again)! yes! aha! SUSPENSE! anyway, thanks to everyone who reviewed my sis' story! Strawberry kisses to Uma for your LOVELY review! She was in tears of gratitude over it and spent the rest of the day saying things like: "When i grow up and am a famous author, I'll let you all swim in my mansion's pool." Caboodles of hugs to everyone for reviewing _this story_ (again)! hehe! until next time! xoxoxo


	9. A greasy haired fellow and taunting

Hi de ho everyone! Omg im soooooo sorry! I was reading over all my chapters when it dawned upon me how many spelling, grammatical and expression mistakes i have in there! it israther shameful as english is meant to be my best subject $-: So anyway, thanks for putting up with the errors and i assure you i will try to be more of a nit-picker in the future! (-:

BTW: **oooooo0000ooooooooo** means change of scene! It's not some blood-curdling scream that carries for the entire fic.

DISCLAIMER: i work at subway (EAT FRESH) and i do like my job. i get free cookies and half price subs. But, alas, i have to work long hours and ...well...let's just say the pay leaves alot to be desired. But if i owned HPtm, i would not need job as id have so much money my savings account would implode. Indeed, this is just wishful thinking. Dang, i have work in the morning...

_Have a killer time!_

Harry Potter was disadvantaged in the area of his mother, never having known her at all. And it was when they were outside Grimmauld Place, waiting to Dissapperate to Harry's 'meeting', that his disadvantage of thinking his mother was...well…a mother, crept stealthily into Harry's head and rearranged his thoughts with malicious havoc.

Harry had wholly expected Lily to shoot him a quizzical look and ask politely where such a place was and what business he had to attend there. And then perhaps to decline such an invitation.

Again, the poor boy was staggeringly wrong.

He first saw the reaction of the name in her eyes. A devastating familiarity that spun sadness across her face began there, until she clamped a hand over her mouth and slumped her shoulders.

"What! W-what's wrong?" It was his turn to ask.

Silently, she shook her head. Harry had the uncomfortable feeling that the single name had mercilessly dumped a flood of unwanted memories upon her. Awkwardly, he turned away to give her space and time to wade her way through the deluge.

But his mind was reeling. Had his mother been to Spinner's End before? What did her reaction mean?

But before he had time to pick over it all, a strong arm grabbed his from behind. He almost cried out in shock, but it was Lily, her face arranged in a resolute grimace, her green eyes fiercely steely. "Lets go. Now." was all she said before she stepped into the middle of the street and, without a further glance at Harry, spun around gracefully and was swallowed up by inky darkness.

**Oooooooooooooo00000oooooooooooooooo**

" 'His taste.' Ok, so that could mean what he likes. Not necessarily to eat, but what he favours. That sort of thing. A dob...that's more difficult. James what do you… James, are you paying attention? _James_? Better put that down James. It looks terribly expensive and noisy to break. Sirius, _wake up_! " said an exasperated Lupin.

He had forgotten how hard it was to keep these two on a task that they frankly wanted to have no part of. They had been picking over the riddle for almost an hour, but James and Sirius had lost every speck of interest in the first 10 minutes. Though Lupin had clearly and repeatedly explained the conditions which hung precariously upon the success of the solving of the riddle, the two boys showed about as much passion in burrowing to the bottom of the riddle's strange meaning as a dead cockroach would have. They did not seem to care this riddle was their _only _way of getting back to their time.

Indeed James had rudely commented that Lupin had taken on a rather teacher-ish air in his old age, which made Sirius laugh but Lupin frown. "If you two want to be stuck here for the rest of your lives fine by me. I know when my help is not needed or appreciated, so I'll just take myself off now." This line had always captured James' elusive attention, whether it was homework that needed working out or more delicate areas, and Lupin had not forgotten his coercing ways. He had always been the one to keep his friends in line, make sure they finished essays on time and such, and 20 years later, nothing had changed.

"Ah, Moony don't leave! You're making excellent progress by yourself!" said James just as the vase he was balancing shakily upon his head gave an ungainly wobble and slipped off . Lupin sighed as the vase smashed spectacularly and the ensuing chink of breaking china finally awoke Sirius.

"Look, we don't know what the bloody riddle means!" he spat, obviously trying to make it appear as though he had not been asleep at all. "The Time-keeper gave us a dud. All the flattery in the world couldn't help that one."

"I whole-heartedly agree, dear Padfoot," said James solemnly, trying to piece the vase back together. "We'll just have to find our own way back. I'm sure there's _another _way!"

Lupin groaned as cautious footsteps approached the door and paused outside. A tentative knock, then: "Harry? Are you in there?" called a girl's voice.

Lupin and Sirius turned to James. He glared resignedly back. "Where is this kid and why am _I _always finding myself in his boots?" he grumbled but nonetheless opened the door. "Hi, Granger!" he said upon seeing the bushy-haired girl perched nervously upon the threshold.

"Hi!" she said back, and without a further word, shot forwards her arm, iron-locked her fist around his upper arm, and pulled James bodily from the room with a detached severity a prison guard would find appalling.

"Wha-" squawked James but Granger interrupted him in a voice as rough as her grip.

"You will _not _and _cannot _dodge us this time! We want some answers!" and proceeded to drag him down the hall. How rude and uncouth, though James with mild indignation. No-one had ever dragged him bodily from anywhere before, and he found the experience not at all favourable. But Granger had a firm grip upon his arm and the more he squirmed the tighter it got.

Finally, she had dragged him all the way to The Plotting Room. She opened the door and said shortly: "In!"

But James danced uncertainly upon the threshold, not at all wanting to be bricked in a room with a girl that could exert such phenomenal strength and therefore overpower him, but then the red-haired boy would was mending the window before ducked his head out, ("Oh, bother. What's his name?" thought James.) and appraised the situation. "Finally got him, then?" he said coolly. "Bring him in." He was not smiling.

Granger relinquished her manacle-like grip, and spread her arm towards the door and an ironic gesture of welcome.

James erected his head proudly, whilst rubbing his arm, and walked past the two, though giving Granger's outspread hands as wide a berth as the narrow doorway would allow, and saying as he passed Ron: "Thank-you, Don."

**Ooooooooooooooooo000000000000000oooooooooo**

Lily reappeared directly upon a dark, dingy front doorstep. She whipped her head about taking in her surroundings, her lungs grasping painfully at the cold night air which carried a tale of a close-by river and stale garbage.

Everything was steeped in impenetrable darkness beyond the door-step, which was gloomily lit with an odd phosphorescent lantern that hung upon the door knocker. With a soft _pop _Harry appeared beside her. His face was painted with eerie shadows from the light, which made him look older and intimidating. Though he smiled wanly at her, and she reciprocated. She guessed beyond this door everything would be steeped in eerie shadows, for she felt they had left everything good and familiar behind.

Their thoughts must have crossed flight as Harry reached a hand around her shoulder and asked if she was ok. Taken aback, she nodded, and he snatched back his arm and straightened his posture.

She smiled sadly. "You're not used to hugs, are you?"

His eyes widened and he opened his mouth to speak but Lily gasped and pointed to the curtain of the only lighted window of the house. It was a-flutter. Someone had been watching them silently through the window. "It's ok," said Harry softly. "He knows we're coming."

Suddenly, the door creaked open and a boy no older than 13 appeared and beckoned them inside with a curl of his finger. Once the door was closed, he made rather a fuss of re-doing latches, tightening bolts, and slipping keys into 2 different keyholes before he turned around and viewed them from his keen, sparkling dark eyes. His dark hair was swept over his forehead to one side, revealing a narrow shrewd face lathed in china-white skin. Lily could immediately tell this boy did not often play with other children and act like a foolish scattered brat like some children can. He was hunched over in a pensive stance, scowling at them from under neath his thatch of dark hair, his eyes sweeping in all.

"Glad you came." he had the voice of one who has been trained to always keep it to a soft, indoor voice by noise-irritated parents.

At the thought of parents, Lily cast a nervous look around. She could not make out much of the small house in the gloom. The same mismatched furniture, musty small and genteel poverty. It had not changed at all. A jagged lump rose painfully in her throat.

"Hi, Mark." whispered Harry. "Thanks for doing this. I know what it would mean if you were both caught. Is your father still in with them?"

The boy nodded wordlessly. He had fixed his eyes unblinkingly upon Lily, who inched slightly closer to Harry. She did not know who the boy was but there was something about him that unearthed emotions she had deliberately buried and tried to forget their whereabouts. She felt a wave of nausea spitefully approaching and perched herself shakily upon the narrow staircase before them.

"No, you must not rest there. They'll see you. Come up to my room-" the boy's words were suddenly blotted out by the loud creaking of a rusty door from the living room and the sound of many heavy footfalls…

"Hurry!" hissed the boy, and gesticulated madly at them both to follow him up the stairs. Harry and Lily sprinted up, Lilly's heart banging frantically against her chest. In her panic, she slipped at the topmost stair, and Harry twisted around to grab her hands before she went tumbling down. The boy danced unhelpfully on the landing above them, but when he heard adult voices rumbling in room below, he gave a terrified squeak and dashed away into dark.

Harry and Lilly froze, still prostrate on the stairs, forced to remain motionless as any of the slightest movements might have been discernable and they could not take the risk of finding out. A deep authoritative voice started to speak over the babble and both Harry and Lily held their quickened breaths.

"So, you think they are arranging it Severus?"

"Yes, of course. What other intelligent guess could be made about their actions that does not end in a dead end? Though, with precision, timing and taking care of…uh, a few matters, there it a very great possibility nothing will come to fruition."

"I think I speak rightly for all present to say that we are hanging all of our last hopes on this endeavour of yours, Severus. One slip up, my friend, and a lot more blood ,than that which needs to be respectively spilt, will meet the ground. Understood?"

The man called Severus' voice muttered an assertion, while the door was de-bolted, un-locked, and dis-latched, and then, with many dignified whispered farewells, the huddle of people slipped out through the door and into the night. When the last disappeared, Lily watched the man called Severus tighten his door again, but he remained turned towards it, his long black hair blanketing his face, not moving, apparently waiting for something. Suddenly he shouted : "Mark! Bring him out!"

The boy reappeared at the head of the stairs and slowly made his way down with timid regretful steps. He stopped at the bottom, casting a worried unblinking glance at the two huddled on the stairs, and turned to face the man.

"Bring him out, I said boy!" the man whispered coldly, his back to the boy. Harry bravely rose and walked down the stairs with self-assured steps and a straight back. Something almost like pride reared inside Lilly. But then the stooping man swung suddenly around and she had to clamp a hand to her mouth to choke her cry of horrified surprise. It was _Perseus_.

**Oooo0000000000ooooooo**

In the meantime, James had almost been having fun. I say almost, as the greatest pleasure James can wring from life is the pleasure of Quidditch, the pleasure his pursuance of Lily brought, his rather sadistic pleasure of taunting people he did not like and the pleasure of knowing he was better and had the upper hand over everyone else around him.

Normal people like you and me will take a glance at this list and start muttering prayers for the poor boy's soul (but by going by the list, that is if he possessed one at all) but James thought these activities were a delicious way to spend his time and happily jumped at the chance to fulfil one if they ever sprang his way.

At the moment, he was fulfilling one and a half of them, and was therefore almost happy. I can only write one and a half as he was having the most wonderful vengeful time taunting Don and Granger, but only a half as he knew he was better than them, yet Granger's hand was resting uncomfortably close to his and therefore not enjoying that particular nicety of having the upper hand. Granger most definitely had that. A particularly pincer-like one too. But nonetheless, he was having fun.

"But what were you going there about?" asked an exasperated Ron, who's face was growing steadily more red.

"I've already told you!" said an mock-exasperated James. " I had to feed my dog!"

"Harry! This is not funny!" fumed Don. "Either you tell us what this secret meeting was about or...or...we'll.."

"Wow, that _does _sound painful," yawned James. Then he rose to his feet. This had been going on long enough and it was time he returned to his own room. Perhaps Moony had figured out the riddle for him!

"Please sit, Harry." said Granger in a small voice. She was not looking directly at him, more out of the night-blackened window that was sporting the recent bandages of nails and new strips of wood. After a slight pause she regained her voice. "You never tell us anything anymore. It's all so secretive, like to tell us would be to risk your top-secret information to enemy ears. Harry, we're your _friends_. We embarked on this road together, but somewhere along it you've slipped away and just left us here to find our own way there. I know you playing with the Big Boys now, and I'm happy that the Wizarding World trusts you that much, but you can't forget who helped you to where you are now," her voice petered out in a trail of emotion and she blinked furiously at James through tear-glazed eyes.

Suddenly, he felt terrible for taunting them, which let me tell you, is something of a breakthrough with James' empathetic conscience, which until now had been steadily gathering dust for 17 years.

He felt an urgent need to rectify the situation. "I'm sorry if I've been a jerk. I know I can be sometimes. And I also act as though I'm some sort of hero, which I am not, and I think I'm overly important, and I am a terrible dresser-" he paused here, made sure he had both Don and Granger's full attention, then decided now or never. "Well, actually no. I'm not sorry for those things, as I didn't do them. My son did. I'm James Potter, nice to meet you!" he smiled and proffered his hand to them both in turn.

But nothing greeted him, except their open mouths and eyes on stalks. "Ah." said James. "This is awkward. Either of you like riddles?"

**Ooooooooooooooooo00000ooooooooooooooooo**

Lily tremulously pushed herself up from the stairs and made her way slowly down. The man had turned at the sound of her shout and now he watched her descend the stairs with the oddest expression clouding his face. Then she stood before him and looked him squarely in the eyes. Mark's eyes were darting from one to the other. Harry walked over and stood silently beside Lily. "Go on," he whispered to her.

"Perseus," she said loudly, still holding the man's eye contact.

Without a word, slowly, reluctantly, he nodded.

"I can't believe this," said Lily "I thought you'd never want to see us again. But here you are, still in contact with my son -(Harry flinched at the title)- I …I'm so happy we've all mended things up!"

The man stared at her for a full minute, then came to a sudden conclusion that inclined him to turn up his hooked nose and scowl at Lily. "I have no business with you, Evans. I take it the Order has worked out how to negotiate with that surly Time-keeper?" -he directed this question at Harry, who mumbled: " In a manner of speaking…"-

The man sniffed, his lips twisting into a sneer. "How convenient. Come, Potter. Let us get this tedious business over with."

They then all proceeded to follow the man through to the living room, though leaving a hurt and humiliated Lily on her own. He was never nice to you, said a truthful voice inside her head. What did you expect? But suddenly her thoughts were cut short by the dancing, silvery light shining its way from the living room. Curiosity stealing over her, she ventured over to the door way and what she saw made her thankful of coming.

Fine gossamer-lace light, shining so beautifully it stole Lily's breath looking at it, exquisite in the black gloomy darkness of the dingy living room, was emanating in silvery threads from a deep wooden chest which was open at Perseus' feet.

He was shielding his eyes with one arm, and digging about in the chest with the other. Both Harry and Mark had their hands over their eyes to block the overpowering intensity radiating from the light. A faint tinkling sound, not unlike soft wind chimes, was pouring out as the light did as well.

But then the light's intensity and the sound reached such a pitch everyone scrunched up their eyes and blocked their ears, and Perseus slammed the lid down. The beautiful light and the reverberating sound died so abruptly Lily was left wondering if she'd dreamed it all.

"Here you are," said Persuse coldly to Harry as he slapped vial of clear liquid in his hands. "That will fix it all. If you tell anyone where from you got it, Potter, you will live to rue that day. Or perhaps not."

**Oooooooooo00000000000ooooo**

Lily did not dare ask what was in the vial. Harry's expression told her to keep quiet. He did not look angry, more an absurd mix of triumph and sadness.

As they stepped out onto the front step, preparing to Dissapperate again, Harry broke the silence.

"Onto your mother next, right?"

Lily nodded listlessly. She had almost forgotten. But her father's tragic goodbye did not seem important anymore. Seeing Perseus' face again had once more flooded her in those horrid memories. Wave after wave of them crashed mercilessly down upon her until she suddenly slumped down upon Harry and started to quietly cry.

"Lily," said Harry awkwardly. "What's wrong? Ca-…can you tell me what that was all about back there? Why were you calling Snape Perseus?"

Her replied came muffled into his shoulder.

"Because that's his real name. He's my half brother."

HEHE! Keep reviewing to keep me happy! Oh, and if anyone has any pointers, now would be the time to drop a hint! Come on...review! (provocatively) You know you want to... hehe! until next time! xoxoxox


	10. A picturesque grave and empathy

_**Hey ho to every little fan ficcer out there. This is a loooooooooong chappie (i couldn't restrain myself!) Nah, actually, it's not that long. I'm all talk. But longer than usual, so i hope you all revel in the long-ity. I know i sort of skirt around the question of Mr. Evans here, but i assure you answers will come. Lily just hasn't found the right person to spill her pretty lil' guts to yet. But she will. Anyone want to take a bet on who? I'm open for it!**_

_**DISCLAIMER: I am currently perched precariously upon the cusp of year 11. A mightily important year, i gather by the simple use of chronolgical logic. I have been told ad nauseum that this will be the hardest year of my school career, and if i stuff it up, well heck kid, you'll be homeless! But i have come to the conclusion that if JK were to hand over HPtm to me, all my school career would consist of would be repeats of Saved by the Bell as i'd have sooo much moo-lah. Alas, i know this will never happen and i must preservere through school...(sigh)**_

_**I hope you have the time of your life! (Dirty Dancing. Ew) Here we go...**_

_Tobias Evans was a complicated man. _

_He was short and slim, with dark crowded features and penetrating eyes that haunted you. But, aside from his appearance, he carried an overpowering charisma that steeped every solitary action of his in an air of intrigue. He possessed an striking aura of formidability that spiralled a room when he walked in: a tangible presence that many found captivating._

_But not his second daughter Lily. _

_She had a always regarded her father with a reverence bordering on fear, a feeling magnified perhaps by the fact Tobias hardly knew his daughter, or bothered to. He was a highly successful stockbroker, who would be called on for morning radio finance chats, newspaper columns, and important business dealings and trips with CEOS of other companies and such. His highly-demanding work left him with a volatile temper and whenever he shouted or was violent towards one of his girls, he blamed it solely on the stress of his job. "If I didn't have to work so hard to provide for you all, I could actually spend some time at home for a change!" he ranted regularly, or as regularly as his job would permit him to be home so they could hear it. _

_The Evans lived comfortably: Tobias provided well for his family and made sure they had everything a higher middle class suburban family could ever need. But the upshot of it all was that he was never around to enjoy their simple, care-free life with them. He came home on a basis of 1 week periods, then uprooted himself, leaving abruptly, sometimes with little more than a hastily-scribbled note stuck to the state of the art refrigerator addressed to Mrs. Evans, Iris, explaining where he had gone and the ever-expanding time he would be away for. _

_Whenever he was home there was less laughter as everyone tip-toed around his temperamental moody behaviour. He exploded manically at Lily once for laughing too loud. She found, from that day onwards, her laughs were seldom heard and quickly stifled . Petunia, Lily and Iris were happy without Tobias, but glad when he was home as it was such a rarity. That was until the 8th of August, 1985 when disaster throttled the contented Evans…_

"Wait! Ok, hold on!" Granger smiled in a forced manner, rather like someone who has queued up for half an hour in a shopping line then, when they approach the counter, is told the register is closed. "You're _James _Potter? I can't believe this! We've been pouring our hearts out to you for the last hour and you were just sitting there silently mocking us?"

"Well, the outpourings of your hearts were actually very funny and mockable." shrugged James. He felt honesty would be a good precaution to take here. Granger had bristled and flared up when he confessed to them, then she began pacing menacingly before James as though to thwart any escape. Not to mention her hands had curled themselves into claws and seemed to be longing to sink her nails deep into his throat. Not pleasant.

He couldn't understand why she was making such a bit deal about the little prank. She was the one who thought he was bloody Harry and he very kindly played along with it as to not disappoint her, but now he was being penalised for it! _This is all because you're such a generous, charitable person, James_, he thought morosely to himself. _Do not ever offer to help any one ever again! You see the consequences_…

"Nah, Hermione. It's not his fault. You were the one who thought he was Harry. Best save your telling-off for the real one." said Don, who was hanging upside-down from an ugly antique lounge that looked as though it had been swiped and transplanted to the dusty, unused cluttered room known to them as the Plotting Room. Not that they Plotted much in there. It was usually just a place they could go to escape the vigilance of Mrs Weasley, or, in Harry's case, when he found being alone so much easier than company. It was full of broken junk and torn, unloved furniture they all thought none of the Order would notice had disappeared. It was currently softly lit with a few stolen candles that spread a sleepy orange glow about the dark room and splayed shadow upon their faces.

"Ok, ok…You guy's know about me already?" said James, ensconcing himself deeply in a squashy, decrepit armchair.

"Of course. Otherwise we would have chained you up and interrogated you." said Granger simply, relinquishing her pacing and sitting stiffly upon the mended window's sill.

"Oh," James was rather disappointed. He gloried in shock value.

"Yes, Harry told us all that! About how you arrived and your little stunt with Scrimgeour - ("Brilliant, mate!" grinned Don") - and Sirius and Harry's mother…," She raked her fingers through her bushy hair irritably, then cast a look at Don. "It was just about the only thing he _has _told us. You see, ever since Harry has begun to actually fight against Voldemort, people are recognising him for his efforts and sometimes…sometimes I think he gets swept away with it. His determination is sort of…cancelling out our friendship with him," she sighed, sliding back sulkily against the window pane.

"So! He's a jerk to you guys! I knew it!" James said triumphantly.

He had thought from the beginning of their fractured acquaintance there was something off with this teenage boy claiming to be his son, and now James thought he had his finger pointed squarely at it: he was not a loyal friend. Stupid and trivial as that may sound to you, James valued this trait as a deity because of simple, deep-set reasons. Though James was, to skim the surface, a faulted person, he was passionately loyal and had abundant contempt bridled up ready to shoot at those who were not.

As he had grown up with an unhappy, disjointed family , his friends were his family and onto these select few he bestowed a love as unconditional as that which should have gone to the family he only cared for by threads of the family name. He felt it necessary to love his parents, yet his friends had earned that love, and he rewarded them for it.

What James did not know was that Harry was exactly the same. His friends were his family also. And the only reason James felt an immediate inexplicable dislike towards him was because Harry was exactly like James and James, who always had to be the best at everything, felt threatened.

"He is _not _a jerk!" yelled an indignant voice from behind the door. Ginny ripped it open and stormed into the room, wearing a long white nightgown and a venomous frown. Her fierce red hair cascaded spectacularly down her back giving her a fiery presence to combat her height. Needless to mention, James shrunk into the squashy depth of the armchair upon which he was perched.

"Were you eavesdropping on us?" asked Don suspiciously.

Ignoring her brother, Ginny spoke in clipped, cold tones to James. "He's under a lot of pressure, what with that Zeichman and all dumping more expectations upon him. Do not judge him, _James_!" she clamped her hands to her hips and her expression clearly spoke for it self: _Or else…_

"I...I'd…not judging him!" James stammered. Then, not one to bow to anybody, he added flippantly: "I love the guy! I think all those great things he's doing for the Wizarding World is awesome! Hooray for Harry!"

Hermione gave him a stern look then rose to light some more candles to combat the steady solid darkness midnight carries with it, whilst Ginny continued to glare at James. He felt uncomfortable. He hated confrontational girls, as he knew he'd never be able to physically retaliate, which was a simple miraculous cure with males.

"You have no idea what we've all been through in these last few months," Ginny whispered, but the dark, candle-lit room was so still it carried and spiralled coldly. "What is going to happen tomorrow…you have no ide -"

But James (who we all know is never one to empathise), snorted.

"Merlin, are you ever _not _murderously angry? It's all I seem to hear from you! Ok, then. Tell me! Go on! What exactly have you been through?" he asked and sprang to his feet, anger flaring.

"I wouldn't waste my breath on someone as self-centred and careless as you," she spat back, and flicking her hair in a furious gesture of dismissal, slammed the door behind her. From above James thought he heard a muffled yell of: "_Quit with the slamming doors_!" He giggled. Hermione shot it down with a look. They all avoided each others gaze.

Ginny's leave had left an awful, heavy silence in her stead.

James cast his eyes to the floor, hands together, cheeks flushed. Finally he spoke, in a voice hinting ever so slightly as humility: "What has happen to you all? What is happening tomorrow?"

Hermione smiled. "Thought you'd never ask."

**Oooo0000oooo**

Lily kept her eyes clamped shut. An earthy smell met her nostrils just as her knees buckled beneath her and her hands found damp, freshly cut grass. She let her body fall and the wet lawn pressed against her face. She breathed it in, still scrunching up her eyes. She felt this night was spinning further away from her grasp of comprehension. Why were they here? What had just happened? The strange gossamer light…

She felt footfalls and someone's presence just beside her.

Harry.

Still, her eyes were fixed shut.

Lily was a warm, yet fragile person . A self-inflicted folly she had encountered too many times to count was that she let people in too far if they were kind and said the right things, then was severely humiliated when they inevitably took advantage and trod on her for their own selfish reasons. It had happened with her father, with Jeremy…then she cowered in the safe, deep confines of her shell, isolating herself until the next one came along…she was not sure about Harry as she had her own niggling doubts about James. Is that why she could not admit what she felt for him?

Presently, she sensed rather than felt Harry lay down besides her on the wet lawn of wherever they were. Midnight's winds wove around trees, cajoling their leaves to dance and rustle. The occasional car revved and sped along a nearby street. The earthy smell of wet grass and silence pressed upon Lilly. They were here, lying side by side in a quiet, placid place undisturbed but for the restless wind. Lily felt her brain soaking in the tranquilly and winding her thoughts down. She did not have to think. Still neither of them spoke. Unsaid things floated clumsily around them. Why were they here? Finally, Harry broke the drowsy, still silence.

"C'mon. Don't you want to see your mother?"

**ooo000oooo**

The enormity of it all pressed down upon James until he cupped his head in his hands, trying desperately to take it all in. Granger continued, not noticing ; her monotonous voice almost made James choke. He raised his head, his perplexed, incredulous frown deepening along with the story Granger was telling: of the brutal battles, searches for some elusive object James heard as "Hor-cruces", the many lives lost in their pursuit, and the volatile atrocities they had encountered due to the Death Eaters…he could not believe they were doing this! He unstuck his throat.

"All…all in the _futile _hope of what?" faltered James.

Granger fixed him with a beady eye. "All in the _achievable _hope of harmony, James." she said, wrapping her arms about her shoulders, as though to provide self-comfort. It seemed re-counting all that the Order had fought against in the last year, the year that Voldemort's tyrannical poison has spread steadily and noxiously about the Wizarding World, made the seriousness of what they were doing mount upon her.

Don apparently felt it too. He was sitting with an unnatural posture: a poker-straight back and hands clasped neatly in his lap, ashen-faced and tight-lipped.

James observed all of this thoughtfully, his mind humming away at a great speed…

And finally (it had been along time coming) the steady drip of compassion which had been trickling into the deep waters of the back of his mind suddenly turned into a full-tide cascade which engulfed him, then and there. In the Plotting Room of Grimmauld Place, James Potter felt the aching throb of empathy (I say: good for him, as every healthy person needs a good measure of empathy.)

He felt for their cause, he felt for their losses and he felt chiefly for them as people. But perhaps all this new-founded emotion built up into a heroic crescendo because, at that moment, James leapt spritely to his feet and took wide, eager footsteps to the door. He flung it open and stood there before it, presenting Don and Granger with the dark hall outside.

They were completely non-plussed. How did the Orders tale fashion such a change in James' attitude? But it was his face which intrigued them the most: a defiant expression hardening his eyes yet shining them at the same time. It was a face, as crystal-clear as either of them could recall , so uncannily alike the one Harry wore so often that for a moment they were unnerved (Hermione even ventured to think perhaps it had been Harry all along, having some bizarre belated April-due joke.)

"I've got to tell them who I am." James said hoarsely. "I can't stand just hiding and running away like I don't even exist! Guys, I do believe in what you were saying, and I know I should just stay out of the way but I feel… I dunno. For some reason I suddenly feel empowered! I…I want to FIGHT!"

He smiled defiantly at Granger and Don who in turn smiled wanly at each other, as thought they had heard this before.

"Well, at least we know where Harry got it from," said Don. "Or maybe you got it from him. Bravery rubbing off on you, eh?"

James further steeled his face. "That's stupid. One's son grows into one. I mean, your son grows into you. Not the other way around."

Granger slid her feet onto the ground, and made her way over to the door. Don (grinning slightly) followed suit. "Perhaps it is high time we told everyone about you all," she said. "They could assist you in some way I'm sure."

They both passed James into the shadowy hallway. But then something dreadful happened. When James had shut the door behind him, when all light was extinguished, he suddenly shivered with unexplainable fright. All of his born-again bravado evaporated in an instant with the violent shiver as his blood turned to ice (though he reckons he passed it off as a quiver of excitement to the other two.) He had had the most frightful feeling as he stared wide-eyed into the gloom surrounding them: like a score of unseen eyes were jeering from the shadowy corners.

"What's wrong?" asked Granger.

Of course James (who always has to the best everything) fobbed it off and put on an act. It is a method (albeit not a good one) some people adopt when they are deeply shaken. He beamed at the other two a beam to counter the darkness. Although, they could not see his sweaty hands still shaking with fear. "Righto!" he clapped them together briskly. "Let's go get the Order formally acquainted with James Christopher Potter!" Then he skipped ahead to the right and down to the stairs at the end of the hall with much more buoyancy than was necessarily in want. If only he had told the others what he had felt, but there he goes bouncing down the stairs regardless.

"Strange chap, isn't he?" Ron frowned down at Hermione. They could hear James whistling happily to himself from the bottom of the stairs. (From above came an irritated yell of: "_Enough with the whistling_!") Ron's freckled frown deepened. "He seems to think everything's a laugh."

Hermione did not respond. But she smiled. Her keen dark eyes had found two black figures who had just crept down the upstairs' staircase at the opposite end of the hall. The figures were bumbling and snarling at each other.

"Oh, watch it Moony! Just because you're taller than me now doesn't mean you get to lead the way!"

"Quiet! You don't know your way around!"

"Oho! I lived here for 16 years, _ol' pal_, and in that time I got pretty accomplished in the art of finding my way around without a chaperone!"

"Ssssh! James must be around here somewhere…,"

"No doubt being lead by a chaperone of his own. Wonder if he's as snappy and teacher-ish as you are?"

Hermione's small smile widened. "Thinking everything's a laugh isn't always a bad thing."

**Oooooooo0000000ooooooooooo**

Lily was fragile. She had always known it. Whenever something upset her in the slightest; if she'd cry watching a documentary on commercial cow meat, or if someone would talk sternly to her, her mother used to say to her : " Lily! You're a fragile little flower!"

But here she was. Sitting gingerly upon her mother's grave and Lily did not feel fragile.

She gasped and burned and seethed for what had happened to her mother. Her face was screwed up in a loathsome grimace but her eyes, her eyes burnt bright. Horrid angry tears spilt down her flushed cheeks. Harry stood awkwardly somewhere behind her, talking of her mother's murder and the few facts he knew of it. But Lily ignored him. Hot tears seared upon her face and her hands clawed at her hair.

"They had said goodbye to her only hours ago, that's what they said to the police. Nothing suspicious about it…."

Her mother's grave.

So picturesque: a small unpretentious marble cutting in a tiny well-kept cemetery off a main road in Surrey.

But her mother deserved more than this.

"There were no marks upon the body, which obviously baffled the Muggle police, but you and Dad knew what had happened…"

_Iris Jennifer Evans 1947-1979 Beloved mother_

"Revenge, you thought…It was someone trying to get back at you…,"

Her simplistic grave told nothing of the hardships her mother had battled and persevered through. Nothing of her admirable resilience to life's nasty lurking surprises, or of her unfailing hope that better days would come for her small family soon enough. Nothing of how bravely she had dealt with the cruel blows Lily's father inflicted upon them all, how she had kept the family together, and told hem all repeatedly that their father still loved them, that he was just confused at the moment…It told nothing of her elegance, nothing of her warmth.

Had Lily not been so wretchedly upset at the fact her beautiful, kind-hearted mother had been callously murdered, she would have (as she was an empathetic person) valued what James had been through upon finding out both his parents had met the same horrible end. She would have also noticed that the monstrous grief and anger clawing at her now was far, far greater than anything she felt when she had received that fateful letter detailing her fathers death on that winter's day at Hogwarts. Though Lily had been closer to her mother than James was to both his parents combined. The sheer shock of discovering the her lovely, gentle mother had been disposed of with such cruelty coaxed out a new side of Lily, one that had hitherto been lost in the depth of her introverted shell.

It was this side which had caused Lily to scream at her father when she had found out about it all.

It was this side of Lily which would give her the strength to sacrifice herself for her only son in the future.

And it was this side which stole over Lily in the Windsor Cemetery that calm night. It pushed her to her feet, and pushed words upon her tongue.

"Harry, take me to my sister."

**Aha! yesssssssssss (The Producers style) Tee hee! See you all next time! xoxoxox**


	11. A midnight foray and the past

Books » Harry Potter » A trip down to memory house B s : A A A

Author: quirky-but-kewl90 1. A pumpkin juiced letter and a pledge2. An alluring set of robes and the flight3. A grumpy TimeKeeper and rudeness4. An awkward kiss and the awful truth5. A snobby mansion and reality6. A terrible impression and consciousness7. A feathery doona and alot of questions8. A belated dinner and an odd meeting9. A greasy haired fellow and taunting10. A picturesque grave and empathy11. A midnight foray and the past

Fiction Rated: K+ - English - Mystery/Drama - Reviews: 150 - Published: 11-25-05 - Updated: 02-25-06 id:2674720

Ha-row fan ficcers! I'm ultra sorry i've taken so long to update, and sadly, it's going to keep getting this way. School is becoming increasingly demandin (much to my displeasure) and i just can't seem to find time! TRAGIC! yeah, so if you don't want me to chuck in the fic UPDATE! THIS IS YOUR FINAL CHANCE OR THE FIC SHALL DIE! (oh...tear.) But yeah. I know it sucks. Life or death decision. Review, or don't review. Quite a hard one.Bhahaha...gosh, i'm getting all emo...tional. So tell me your thoughts pretty please!

DISCLAIMER: Has everyone gone to mugglenet and had a gander at the actors playing Luna, James and Lily? Luna: meh. James: I like, i like (not as hot as Danny though. And he looks NOTHING LIKE HIM! They're meant to be like identical, aren't they?) Lily: No! I'm ultra sorry, but the Lily in my head does NOT look like that! They better dye her hair real quick or there will be some broken noses. But, if i had the rights to HPtm, i could choose whoever i wanted for the roles! But...alas, i do not. Pity. Jake Gyllenhaal would have done a spiffing job as James.

Have waves of joy! Ready, set, go!

"What?" stammered Harry.

Lily could only just make out his shadowy face from the ground through the cemetery's darkness and the tears stinging and blinding her. His face was a shadowy blend of fear and disbelief. "No. I'm…I'm sorry…Lily. I can't take you there."

She bunched up her hair in a panic-stricken fist and pulled it taunt from her skull. Why is he not helping her? He's just standing coolly above and judging. He is heartless…he doesn't care… "Why?" she growled, he hands now scrubbing at her agitated face. It was hot to touch. She felt she was teetering on the edge of one of her panic-attacks, when the world narrows and closes around her while her breathing catches and her head spins sickeningly…like that day at the station…

She became dimly aware of Harry sitting down beside her. He crossed his legs neatly beneath himself so not even a toe poked over disrespectfully onto her mother's grave before them. After a while, Lily found her breathing had eased up but was still rasping and laboured. It was fogging up before her and she suddenly realised how cold it had suddenly become. Harry shifted awkwardly closer to her, his eyes peering concernedly through the darkness. "You ok?" he asked, his voice little more than a tentative whisper.

She nodded, her eyes closed and rested her head against his arm. She felt him tense but then relax. "Why won't you take me to Petunia?" she whispered. Cold midnight gales blew through the quaint cemetery's trees and softly lifted the hair against their faces. It was some time before Harry spoke.

"I'm not taking you to the Dursley's until…until you answer some questions."

Ooo00000000000oooooo

"James! Geeze, James! Halt! Someone'll see you!" Don hissed from the landing above James, but he ignored him and continued down the stairs at a brisk pace.

Part of the momentum of the brisk pace was the half-formed half-hope of running into someone so he could strip the shrouding cloak of secrecy from this whole fiasco. He was sick of hiding and sick of being on the sidelines. Being involved was James' sort of thing. Besides, why let that brown-noser Harry hog all the adulation? The other part was that he wanted to put as much space between himself an that terrible lurking presence he felt in that hallway out from the Plotting Room. James shivered involuntarily and lengthened his strides, his footsteps echoing dully on the stair. He did not know what had caused such a horrible, chilling terror to rear inside him, but he had the surmise that anything boded by an unseen looming terror would not be at all favourable.

Rather sooner than he had expected (they were lengthy strides nonetheless) he had arrived at the topmost stair of the staircase which lead down into the main entrance hallway of the ancient house. James let his hands flop limply to his sides and his eyes expand and gawk at what he was seeing.

The whole of the bottom level of the house was bustling with hurried frenzied movement, shouts and activity. By the dim orange flickering light of the sparse oil lanterns upon the shabby walls, he watched agape as dozens of people rushed past in groups, hefting heavy loads of what looked like wooden crates before the front doorway, which was already obscured by piled up crates, smaller cardboard boxes and, what looked to James, an array of weird-looking spy-like equipment .

Many more people yelled, ordered and argued in the shadows and the rooms beyond, their voices meshing up together to create a frenzied din which James did not understand how he could not have heard before. More of the wizards flicked in and out of the insubstantial globs of light cast by the oil lanterns, all looking harassed and anxious, their faces puckered up and foreheads pinched in worry. There was a jerky taut air of nervous worry.

James stood there at the crest of the stairs, feeling confused and obsolete. Why was everyone on such a rush? Should he be helping? Presently, Granger and Don appeared at James' side, breathing deeply at having run after him. James shot a quick glance at them and concluded straight-away that they already knew of the covert midnight operation…whatever it was. Their faces appeared neither shocked or frightened by the jumpy atmosphere and their eye-brow remained at a neural altitude, unlike his which were so far up he felt pop-eyed. So they already knew of this.

"So," said James, in somewhat accusatory tones. "Want to let me in on this lil' midnight-foray, eh?"

Don grinned at him. "Still got some of that bravado left?"

Ooo000oooooooooo

Lily rose to her feet, like Harry taking care not to tread on the grave. She felt she would have a knotted feeling that she was stepping upon her mother if she did. Harry's sudden kindness had elevated any sort of attack she might have had, but she still felt agitated and clammy. She kept shaking her hands out before her like she was trying to shake off water. "What questions do you want to know?" This was a highly inappropriate time to have an interrogation session, but if Harry was anything like James, she knew he would not budge even an inch towards her sister's house unless he got his way.

"Snape!" Harry suddenly exploded. He shot to his feet and started feverishly pacing before her. "What on earth did you mean: "He's my half-brother."? Snape? and then you just leave it at that? I mean, why? How? I don't…Snape? You can't be serious. No, you're mistaking him for someone else. Snape?" He stopped abruptly and faced her, his arms folded derisively. She could only partly see his face from the very faint glow of the way-off highway streetlights, but his face (which differed slightly from James' the more you looked at it) had taken on a scalding expression she could never see James achieving.

She bowed her head slightly and drew her cloak more tightly around herself. Then, she unearthed the words from deep inside her. They hollowed her out as they rose and she felt more hot tears prick her eyes.

"I guess I owe it to you to tell you the truth. I mean, my future self has obviously not had enough guts to tell you so you'd be better off hearing it from someone who will disappear soon anyway…," She took a steadying breath, keeping her eyes fixed on the wet grass below her, unable to look Harry in the eyes. "Snape...or Peruses (as is his actual name) is my half-brother. My father was never home. He had a high-flying job that would have demanded a lot of attention, but his absences exceeded normal workaholic's schedules by a staggering amount, so my mother began to wonder..," The tear slid across her eyes, threatening to fall. " She hired an investigator. He did some background checks on my father. It turned out that there was no existing record of him before he turned 19. No birth certificates, no primary enrolment forms, nothing. It was like he just popped out of the ground one day. The investigator could find nothing of his parents either. My father always said they died when he was younger and were buried in his home town which he said was near Cambridge. The investigator snooped around the cemetery there. He found nothing. He also found no trace of the aunt who allegedly took Dad in after they died. She didn't exist. So Mum decided to have Dad followed. That's when…," They rolled down her face, and down the slope of her chin and under her neck. One after another. A deluge of tears. "She found out about his other life. His other family. He had lied to us. All our lives. Lied to them as well. My mother handled it all so admirably. She cut up my father's expensive business suits, dumped all of his possessions on the footpath, and cut his face out from every photo in our house. All while he was on one of his 'business trips'. Then we moved. Back to where Mum grew up, Surrey. I was eleven." she brought her hands over her anguished face and tears leaked out between her fingers.

Harry stayed silent. He did not know what to do in an emotional uphaul like this. Awkward pats on the back and mumbled words of comfort would fall away meekly. So he sensibly stayed silent. Lily continued from her behind her hands, her voice a plaintive wail of despair. Unfortunately, Harry could now only understand half on what she was saying.

"We n'va saw him arfa that. O'ly once or twice a yea. We harda (- here, her muffled sobs reached a wretched crescendo which blotted out all coherency in her voice-) ….an th'n I saw him at the sation. Seein Perseus off, no dowt. I saw him. An' he look'd at me. And I juss start'd screamin'! I screamed and I screamed and screamed. About how he juss lef us! About how he nva contact'd us! About wot he di ta Mum…ta our family…ta me." She thankfully lifted her hands from her face and Harry saw it was torn with pain. "Harry, I need to talk to Petunia." she sobbed. " I don't know how that will help, but it has to do something. That station incident was the reason I'm here right now. I felt terrible for it because…because he died 2 months later. They were the last things I ever said to him. Harry, please help me."

ooo000000ooo

"Well, you know about the Horcruxes, don't you?" asked Granger as they stood above all the frenzied chaos and yelling and bustling.

"What?" squawked James. This was really all too much. Perhaps he could just slink back upstairs to his doona bed and pretend this was all a highly coloured and convincing dream. "Uh, I've heard you all vaguely speak of them. Some sort of of reunion has to go on between them all achieve sort of enlightened peace…I don't know. I tuned out, There was an interesting bug on the wall."

"Be serious! Well, I don't have time to take you through it now, but… yeah I guess that a fairly terrible yet withstand-able synopsis. We think we've located the final one (-Don grunted at the word 'we'. Granger frowned.) "Oh, ok then. Harry found the final one. But the only problem is, it's situated in a rather tricky place."

"Do tell of it's tricky-ness."

"Be serious! It it's self is actually in a iron-bolted chest. But that chest was stolen years ago from your-…I mean, someplace. By someone who was of the Dark side. And now, the Dark side are guarding it most heavily. So, we've prepared all of this to have some sort of faint, distant chance of stealing it back and putting a halt on Voldemort's (-oh, get a life Ron-) reign of…," she searched for an appropriate word.

"Terror?" supplied Don helpfully.

"Thank-you. Yes, terror. That's certainly what it is since he secured that bunker thing."

James stared as a bunch of wizards lugged another crate over to the huge pile before them, sprinting off as soon as they had dumped it, presumably to fetch for another one. "You mean to tell me," he said slowly, "that this is the organisational basis of a full-scale attack on those styling themselves collectively as "The Dark Side" ?"

Granger and Don nodded as Sirius and Moony tramped down the stairs behind them, looking put-out and irritable.

Suddenly James discovered his bravado had well and truly shot off. He felt cold and way in over his head, an unwelcome feeling which flourished horribly as an unwelcome person plodded out of the darkness and up the stairs, saluted formally, and seized James by the hand, dragging him off into the dark drawing room.

"Ok! Ok, ease up there Zeichy!" said James. People wound around them in the darkness, holding armfuls of maps or even more boxes of varying sizes. Zeichman plonked James down in an armchair (-which he vaguely registered as being of the same set of the one he had reclined on in the Plotting Room-), lit the closest oil lamp with his wand, and then stood stock still, hands clasped together, as if waiting for James to do something. "Erm…I say, what are you doing?" asked James irritably. He was sick of people acting oddly and secretly. At first, it was a great novelty to snigger at them inwardly, but now that novelty had worn thin, he was back to being heartily sick of the whole thing. James, as we know, had a terribly short attention span and when it comes to espionage, he was no different.

"I'm awaiting your order," murmured Zeichman, his posture rigidly erect, the oil lantern's light reflecting off his aviators and the gold buttons upon his cuffed solum blazer, his corded arms folded afore him as a butler.

"Oh, good." said James happily. "I really don't mind. Bring me anything. I'm hungry as hell. I think perhaps someone brought Evans food during the night, but she's taken off to Merlin-knows-where now, leaving us an empty plate. Charming girl. Oh, and some Butterbeer would be nice, if it's not too much trouble," he reclined back in the comfortable armchair. So this was all Harry had to do? And people called him a hero. Well, being a hero's rather easy, thought James. Who knows, if I order something else perhaps I'll get a medal.

Zeichman had laughed mechanically at James' answer but stopped abruptly. He placed a bare arm either side of the armrests on James' chair and brought his tight, hardened face right up close to James'. "Listen, Potter. This is getting deep. You're getting in deep, kid. I want this clear. We are taking a risk backing you! You might be wrong about the Chest, I don't know, but if we stuff up, it'll be loaded heavily upon your scrawny little shoulders. You got that?" he growled in a rumbling voice.

"I have got it. It is well and truly here and I think it's swell. Thanks for it." James said coldly as he slid himself past Zeichman and out of the chair. He crossed his arms as Zeichman turned around. He hoped to look imposing and important, but Zeichman was rather taller, broader and had his bared arms were folded too and unimpeded (also they were a unsettling hands-grasp away from James). After Grangers pincers, James was never going to view hands the same way again. "Mr. Zeichman, do you have a family?" asked James innocently. It had the effect he desired.

Zeichman's brow deepened beneath his aviators and he straightened his already impossibly straight posture. "No. " he finally said. "They were all killed by the dark side." he injected no feeling or emotion into this sentence whatsoever.

"So, who are you fighting for, then" asked James.

"I'm fighting for the better good, Potter." he replied evenly. "Who are you fighting for?"

"My parents." retorted James promptly.

Zeichman grunted. "Voldemort has secured the use of the Icia's underground station, all her guards, footmen, armies, and basically anything else the vacuous fool has bought her way into. Even her Reapers. We need order from you now, Potter. Put that strategic head up to a challenge," he gave James a curt nod and walked over to a desk strewn with maps and complicated diagrams. "Or you parent's will be even more dead than they are now."

Oooo0000000ooooo

Harry inhaled deeply. He brought up a fist to knock upon the rippled glass panel of the front door. He paused and shot a glance at Lily. "Sure you want to do this?" he asked. Clearly, Harry was not learning his lessons when it came to his mother. Had he known her better, he would have surely foreseen the answer to this question.

"Of course not!" whispered Lily crossly. She stretched out a hand and rapped clearly upon the door. Harry hadn't known better, which is why is face fell and he braced himself as he heard bare feet upon the parquet floor beyond the door and the lock unlatch.

Aunt Petunia stood there, in her familiar white cotton nightdress, her blonde hair scraped severely back into a tight bun. "You!" she shrieked upon seeing Harry on the doorstep. "I though we were shot of you! I was going to give your things to that wretched owl of yours that keeps appearing, but I-," her speech stuttered to a halt. Her narrow keen eyes had spotted Lily lurking behind Harry. Her face scrunched horribly up. Her mouth sagged. And she staggered forwards with a cry into Harry, who caught his aunt by the upper arms, heaved her up onto her feet, and steered her into the house and into one of the Dursley's comfortable living room recliners. Aunt Petunia sagged in her chair, her eyes closed, making odd burbling sounds with her slack lips.

"She's in shock," stated Harry knowledgably. Lily glanced around her sister's home. It was large and absurdly tidy: plastic upon the lounge chairs, spotless tabletops, shining parquet floors and many strange hi-tech appliances Lily hadn't seen before, but which looked terribly expensive. The house was dark, but for the loungeroom's bright overhead light. She had the feeling there were others upstairs, asleep-

"Well, Petunia's done well for herself." said Lily mildly, observing a video recorder.

"You wouldn't say that if you met the guy who makes it well," said Harry darkly. "Why do you want to talk to her?"

"She's the only family I have left. I need to find out what's happened, and if she knows anything about how I might get back. It's a long shot, but stranger things have happened." She spotted a box full of objects near her feet and bent forward to inspect.

"She's still out of it," said Harry. "And I don't fancy waking up Uncle Vernon to try to get answers out of him…Brr., it's suddenly really cold! Hey, what are you doing?"

For amidst the pile of old school books, jumble of clothes and other things Aunt Petunia had been meaning to give back to Harry, Lily had spied a photo album bound in shiny red leather. She had flipped it open at random to reveal a photo of her own wedding day. There she was, smiling out with a beam of pure unlevelled joy, her white gown glowing in the garish overhead light. And James, his arm wrapped protectively around her waist, looking stately and handsome, his crooked grin of unbridled happiness bounding across his face. "Wow." she whispered softly. "Is that really us?" Harry nodded, but did not speak. Lily gazed back down at the photo, her eyes misted over. "We look so happy…,"

"Yeah, you do," said Harry in a odd voice.

But at that moment, an ear-splitting shattering of glass exploded behind them, and sharp shards hailed down upon their heads. Lily threw her hands over her head as she screamed, Harry grabbing her roughly and pulling her to the ground. She heard someone hurl through the broken window behind them and land just before them.

Slowly, her heart beating a panic-stricken tattoo in her chest, she looked up, her breath all of a sudden fogging up before her. What she saw made her blood freeze over. It was a figure, human in shape though 8 feet tall. It was swathed in a black tattered overcoat, which seemed to suck in the darkness around them. A length of blood-red ribbon criss-crossed it's middle, and lined the sleek black top-hat it wore pulled over it's face. Harry shifted and tried to get to his feet, but the thing suddenly lashed out a pale white arm into the folds of it's coat and unsheathed a great sickle with terrifying agility. The sickle was as tall as the Thing and it's blade shone with a dazzling intensity that was not from the garish overhead, which was spluttering and blinking, throwing an insubstantial flashing light upon the horrid scene .

It placed the curved blade directly under Harry's chin. "I'll be taking her, and leaving. Do not pursue me, wizard." The Things spoke in chilling tones, which froze to Lily's core and made her bones ache. It swirled a dashing cape around itself from nowhere, and was suddenly nowhere to be seen. The room returned to it's normal temperature. The overhead stopped spluttering and returned to full power. Harry got gingerly to his feet, helping Lily up with him. "What…what was that thing?" she asked in a petrified voice even below a whisper. Harry let go of Lilly and started forward.

Then he turned a round with a horrified face that made Lily suddenly feel ill. "Whatever it was, it's taken your sister."

Oh, the suspense! Bhaha! Well, i must put forward my pledge again incase you've forgotton: show me reviews or i shall become downhearted and stop the fic and concertrate on school work (EEWWW! eurgh, i'm not liking this!) So, review for bum's sake! Oh, has anyone seen Brokeback Mountain? I saw it tonight and utterly adored it! Till next time (it's up to you and your review skills if there is a next time! oooh, big threat.) tooodles! xoxoxox


	12. An inevitable death and grim faces

**Hey ho! Well, i am deeply shamed. SIX WHOLE MONTHS it has been since i've updated. Not cool. But at least this chappie has been brewing in my head for the last six months so you know it's good! i'm really sorry to everyone (if i still have any of my original readers left!) and will try to update on a more regualr basis! This chappie is long, but it's getting exciting if i do say so myself! So strap yourselves in! (how cliched)**

**DISCLAIMER**: I have just busted my butt off for 2 solid weeks in anxious prepartion for my yr 11 block exams. This is all so i can receive a great op then receive a great job as a direct result of that op. But if i owned hp tm, that woulnot be necessary. I could have just sat there for the 100 and 30 minuet duration of my english block and twiddled my thumbs instead of trying in vasin to figure out how texual features constructed the invited reading of the chosen text. i feel sick even typing it. Alsa, i do not own hp tm. Therefore, more studying is a likely foresight.

**ENJOY!**

The marble countertops gleamed.

Stainless steel appliances shone.

Carpets stretched blank and unblemished.

A clock's rhythmic ticking echoed as a pale tempo for the spick and span kitchen and loungeroom.

And there they were, huddled together.

Shaking.

Blood covered in the midst of that sterialised environment.

She clung to Harry with the grip of a drowning man, the hands knotted around his neck slippery with blood from the shards of glass from the front window. Every shard had been blown away from the window's frame, leaving it a gaping, massive hole before them through which the calm scent of night-time suburbia drifted, in a severe contrast to the wreckage: wreckage amongst the prim neatness.

Lily suddenly felt Harry's shoulder muscles tense. A sound; shifting, rustling panic- upstairs. She found herself being dragged by him, towards the kitchen, hissed in here, ripping open the door of the under sink cabinet. Lily hurled herself in blindly, beyond caring if they were found. What if she's dead? The blazing words imprinted themselves upon her vision, swimming as her head pounded. Harry snapped the cabinet door shut again. Cramped together, knees in each others' faces. Air reeking of detergent seared their throats. Lily could hear thunderous footsteps descending the stairs.

"What on earth!" a man bellowed.

The crunches of glass being walked upon.

Stunned silence.

A blank buzzing droning in Lily's brain.

What if she's dead?

Though she could not see him from the pitch dark of the tiny cabinet, Lily could almost sense the man's absolute horror: waking to find his living room blown apart. "Was he Petunia's husband?" she breathed to Harry.

"Yes. But we're not leaving until he realises she's gone. The Muggle police won't be able to do anything about it, but at least we'll have someone doing something."

"Well, fat lot of help that'll be! Just get the police more tied up and waste their time." She could not understand his reasoning, but let it go. He was in charge. He was Harry. No questions asked.

"Why do you think that…demon took her? Was it a revenge thing, or-"

"Revenge? No." A pause in conversation, like a gap in thought. "She's bait, that's all."

Bait. That's all. "No. She's his wife and my sister!" Lilly whispered fiercely. As if her words had squeezed out from the cabinet and wound their way to Petunia's husband's ear, he immediately started calling her.

"Petunia! Petunia, oh god."

A cold crept up Lily's flesh. The man was calling her name so loudly. Eventually he petered out, voice rasping and cracking. Lily was glad she could not see his face.

"He knows." whispered Harry. "Let's go."

Hands thrust deep in his pockets, James pounded through the bustle with an ominous tread, though imparted smiles and nods at those who caught his eye. Who nodded back jerkily and shifted the load they were carrying uncomfortably. Nobody questioned him. Why should they have? They thought he was Lord Harry The Liar. Although perhaps a nice void of contact would have been be a fortunate occurrence as James Potter was in a blustering maelstrom of a bad mood, and idle questioning when one is in this mindset is of course a horrific and fatal mistake.

He passed Don and Granger. Neither were perceptive of his temper as they appeared to be holding hands and smiling mushily. He cast them a magnificent glower and thundered past, all the way up to The Plotting Room's corridor. He paused, a niggle of fear causing him to light his wand apprehensively. He did not want to take any chances lest that creepy presence still be wafting around. Once enclosed inside the Plotting Room, James sunk into a dilapidated armchair and stared at a strip of moonlight thrown from the window across the timber floors and thought about death.

"I'm dead," he says aloud. But the words drop apathetically from his mouth and lay there idly, playing dead themselves. They do nothing. Because they are not true. "I can't be dead." James states more loudly, liking the effect the empty room gave to his voice. "Zeichman was lying, because…because he's got it in for me. Harry's probably really docile, flopping right at his feet like a stupid pet. And I've stood up for myself and Zeichy doesn't like it." This turn of events nestled snugly in his conscience, the weight shifted onto someone else. "Or, Harry has been lying to me" James fell silent, his mind's chatter simmering down in the solitude and darkness.

"Ahoy, Prongs. My, isn't this a tad anti-social?" Sirius suddenly paraded into the room, bringing candles, Don and Granger, noise and activity. James balled himself up on the chair stubbornly, scowling. Bad moods were not a transient states with him: they sunk their claws in and poisoned his actions and words for hours. "Look, I know what he said to you." said Sirius bluntly. "I...er…sort of followed you. Got sick of Moony. His tallness has gone to his head. But, yeah. Not pleasant, mate."

"Wait until Harry's back. He'll explain it." said Granger, her expression compassionate like she had just gone through the same experience last week.

"So it's true." mumbled James.

Granger's gaze fell from his.

"So, where is Harry? Oh, and Evans? Busy making us dinner, I hope. " Sirius grumbled, rubbing his stomach theatrically.

"I really don't know where they are, sorry." replied Granger. "They will be back soon though. It's almost daybreak and that's when we set out."

James avoided asking what "set out" entailed. How come everyone is a hero around here?

"So, answer me this: what is so great about this Harry kid anyway?" he burst out angrily, his hands shredding the leaking foam of the armchair with venom.

"He's a pretty amazing person." admitted Don gruffly. "Saved my sister's life."

"Beat off Dementors."

"Saved Sirius' life." (-"No, he didn't!" Sirius shot back immediately-)

"Witnessed You-Know-Who coming back, and survived that."

"Fought You-Know-Who and survived!"

"Fought other things along the way, and survived." (-"So, all he really does is survive, James thought

"He's done incredible things and-"

"And! He's my son." James cut in brusquely.

Granger shot him a look he was fast coming to regard as her trademark.

"So you think all his brilliance stems off you? You know what James? You and Harry are very different. Looks are skin deep."

James leapt out of his chair and into the middle of the room, assuming power play. " So, Harry is this wonderful, bad-guy-smiting, here's-another-Order-of-Merlin-for-your-collection, sacrificing-kinda guy?" he spoke in even tones that were at unnerving odds with his menacing stance. "And you're all asking yourselves how did he come from him? Is that right?"

James' heavy breathing. Don fiddling nervously with his hands. Granger spoke.

"Yes." Brown eyes slits of dislike. "Yes it is."

"We aren't going to say anything? Even if it could save her life?" Lily's cheeks flamed at her obsolete frustration, despite the nip of the cold that precedes and announces dawn. Thin, deep cuts curved across her cheeks and forearms. She picked at a series of them, running parallel and crisscrossing her forehand. But she was far removed from her physical state: her thoughts were trailing and weaving after her sister.

"We can't." answered Harry in a dead voice. "Uncle Vernon would blame me, and the last thing I need right now is to be locked in a Muggle police station, being charged for wilful damage of the Durselys' front window! And possibly Aunt Petunia's disappearance, if they have enough time."

She ran her fingers along the raw threads of torn flesh, trailed their decent nearly to her elbow. "Didn't he care about her?"

"No, he did…but, her family is...well, the Petunia I know is probably very different from the one you knew."

"Oh yeah? How?"

"More materialistic."

"No. Same Petunia. Is she a good aunt to you?"

Harry responded gruffly. "Good enough. Well, anyway, what good is there to be done even if we told them? 'Oh yeah, a bloody great reaper stole your wife! Nothing personal, mate. Sure she'll be back soon.' "

Lily realised he was masking his worry with sarcasm. She smiled. A personal trait she was well accustomed to. He picked up a stick; doodled absently in the grit in the broken gutter they were sitting on. Behind them Grimauld Place reared up starkly, a black cardboard cut-out against a sky of dusty indigo.

It was that mysterious 15 minuets before the sun's rosy hues dye the east. When there is only that blue: a dusky, lonely, somber blue streaked with wispy clouds and everything is still. Dark. Silent. A sleepiness and quiet pervades the world and it is hard to believe that it will ever bustle and hurry. In these 15 minuets you feel like the only person alive, dwarfed by a silent great entity of stillness. That was indeed how Lily felt. She felt the only problem that had ever arisen in the universe was the kidnapping of Petunia, and that no-one could help.

It was not that she particularly liked her sister. She loved her only by name: any sisterly sutures of emotion had been viciously ripped apart by hatred and jealousy on her sister's behalf. Hatred at Lily's looks, her intellect, her body, and even her eyes. But to imagine Petunia in pain, tortured, or even dead. Lily remembered the Petunia that actually spoke to her, laughed with her joked, gossiped, accepted her. Loved her. That was the Petunia she loved. That was the Petunia she was terrified for.

"What was that thing that took her?" Her voice broke the early morning air pregnant with moisture and secrets. He was so reserved. Another similar trait. She watched the black cut-out of Harry run a hand through his untidy hair, move restlessly, shifting his shoulders as though renegotiating a burden.

"A reaper. One of Icia's I suppose. She's probably even got her henchmen flitting around Grimauld Place already…" His voice seemed crushed by some emotion she could not translate: fear, determination, acceptance?

"Who's Icia-"

"C'mon. Let's get inside. The others will be forging wills and dividing our possessions by now." There it was again.

Lily smiled again.

Fear. He was scared for his aunt.

The black cut-out moved towards Grimauld Place's yawning front door. Lily fancied she could hear shuffling noises coming from the inside, like heavy loads being shifted and dragged. Looked down at the gutter. Harry had doodled a "1" in the grit. She stared at it for a second before moving towards the front door.

James promptly sat back down in the armchair, stunned at Granger's blunt portrayal of his character. All throughout James' sheltered existence, never had some one had the audacity to summate his character in comparison to someone else's, as a negative outcome would have a devastating result upon James' self-esteem, something he has always harbored in abundance and was therefore his most nursed attribute. Though, when put to the test, it failed miserably. This is what they think of me, wandered into his dazed mind. They actually think I'm not good enough as…

A tentative knock drew all the awkward gazes as Harry and Lily slipped into the room. James' gaze was on Lily: her round face glowed in the semi-darkness, nasty scratches running the length of it, eyes bright, darting. Where had he taken her?

"You liar," said James in a quiet voice. Granger and Don's welcoming voices died away warily. James rose and faced Harry. James studied the face before him. It looked like his, certainly, but here were differences. Harry looked older, James observed, a pensive face; keen green eyes that slanted as Lily's do, beneath dark arched eyebrows. James could see the beginnings of faint crease marks on his forehead though his experiences were starting to engrave themselves upon him. The keen eyes locked James', unflinching. What are you talking about, James' mind supplied the words like a printed speech bubble before Harry's mouth. But, Harry is not James.

"I'm sorry.," he said. "Sorry I lied. I really just…couldn't bear the thought of telling you both that you were…"He sighed, running frustrated hand through his hair. By the way it sat, he guessed it must be habit.

"What?" Lily's hands on their shoulders tore them apart. She gazed imploring at both of them.

"Lily, we're dead! Dead! And he lied to us!" James' hand unconsciously leapt to his hair. He felt oddly cold, being so close to Lily, smelling her frenzied breaths as she exhaled. A sensation like pins and needles crept through his flesh where her hand rested on his shoulder. Her breath caught.

"Dead?" she echoed. Face impassive, mouth curved downwards grimly. "Yeah, I guessed. Persueus wasn't really cryptic about it. I understand why you lied. I would have done the same.

"Who? Persueus? Snivellus? Where'd you meet him here?" squawked James.

Granger spoke over him. "Harry, you'd better explain it all to them."

Harry smiled wanly. James was embarrassed to see tears glinting in his eyes.

"Right then," he started in a fractured voice, settling himself unto the floor. Lily followed, then of course, so did James. The room had gone respectfully silent. "Halloween, 1981." He sighed, eyes drifting between his parent's faces sadly.

"Oh! Horror story!" came Sirius' voice form the couch.

Murder. Murder. Dark, creeping, nasty words slithered sinuously though Lily's brain. Murder. Betrayal. Suffering. Hunted. She lay there in the floor in some dusty room, in a prison of sleeping people, silence and taut itchy blankets. After Harry's retelling of their deaths, Granger had suggested in a fake cheery voice that they all catch up on some sleep. The red-haired gangling boy named Ron had his foot against her head, Sirius' arm lay across her leg, and heavy rhythmic breathing laden the bright morning air with a drowsy stillness. Having spent most of the night in a cryptic goose chase culminating in a dashing kidnap had exhausted her immensely but sleep was being fought off by those words, even as everyone else slept peacefully. Murder. Betrayal. Sacrifice.

Had she really done that for Harry? It did not seem possible. She must have really loved him…a beautiful gesture, Granger had said, nodding reverently. Lily had only felt cold. Did she really have it in her to give up her life for her son? That sort of strength and love was beyond Lily's comprehension. The only person who had ever really loved had been her mother, everyone else had betrayed her: her father, Petunia, Jeremy, the loser who had cheated on her so many times yet she still forgave him…no. She did not feel like a fearless heroine. Just a 16-year old girl who is way in over her head.

"Evans?" James' voice sliced through the heavy silence and fresh sunshine highlighting the motes of dust floating lazily in the air. "I know you're awake. "

Lily scrunched up her eyes in annoyance. The last thing on earth she felt like was James prodding and poking at her thoughts. "You'll wake everyone up! What is it , James?"

"Can you believe that all? Dead! I mean …and Peter!" here, James' words fumbled, cluttered, probably like his thoughts. "I just...he…I don't, what he did, did you ever expect that?"

Lily found she did not really care about Peter's betrayal but knew to James it would mean a lot, not for the sake of losing a friend, more the indignation at being outsmarted by someone he had always held himself superior to. "No, he always seemed so…" She did not know Peter. She did not care.

"Meek?" supplied James quickly. "Yeah, I thought that too. I don't like the thought of being inevitably murdered. Murdered is such a broad term. He should have narrowed it down: 'Ok, James, you'll be toyed with like a mouse, then bludgeoned and finally Avada-Kedavra-ed.' "

"That's not funny."

"I'm not trying."

"I feel it's all beyond me."

Silence.

"Yeah. I feel that way too."

Lily opened her eyes. James admitting defeat was so significantly out of character she wondered if she had plumbed down to the real James, the one behind the overwhelming ego.

"I'm sorry about your sister. What's happening about it?"

"Harry told the Order. They reackon it was to get information from her."

"Bummer. Getting her back?"

"Once they get this mysterious "Operation" thing happening today, I suppose something will happen. Has anyone told you what it's all about, anyway?" She could still hear the shifting of mysterious objects and soft murmurs from the 'operation' continuing downstairs.

"The only time I actually received information about what is going on in this place, I was assuming Harry's identity, and I am not at all keen to repeat that experience. People turn to you for answers. It's disgusting."

"He's strange isn't he? He's all calculating and determined."

"And depressed."

"Are you going to help them?"

"Yeah, I feel I have this moral obligation to. They're all so passionate, and it must be for the cause of something, so why not get a slice of that passion? I feel I have to do something substantial, like sacrifice myself."

Curious to gain his perspective, Lily flipped around on her stomach to face James. "We must be really loving parents."

"Must have been. Past tense."

"He scared me when he told us that. The sacrifice part, and the parent part."

He slid over on his side, frowning. "You don't want to be my lawfully wedded wife?"

"James, we're 16! I feel I have absolutely no scope to even begin to understand the notion of who I want to spend my life with!"

"You've ignored me since you got back. Why?"

"I've felt weird around you. Like we have an arranged marriage or something."

"And I'm not what you'd want in a husband?"

"James-"

"Ok! Lily, I get it! I'm…I'm a jerk! I'm up myself. I'm arrogant. My humor is not proper. But how many times have you rejected me? I get it. I'm not good enough for you."

She opened her mouth to reply when the door was ripped open and a voice shouted: "Potter! Sir, Ziechman requests your presence." And was snapped shut again. There were drowsy grumblings and languid stirring of limbs as Harry jumped up immediately to his feet as though he had never been asleep at all, and marched out and down the hall.

"Ok. That's it. I'm' getting involved. I'm just as good as Harry." James leaped up as well and picked his way to the door between the sleeping bodies.

"Wait!" Lily called out, grumbled, then reluctantly followed.

They hid on a stair landing that positioned them conveniently above all the action. Harry strode into the midst of the bustling with a definite air of importance and a cold confidence she had never seen surface in James' myriad of confident character as of yet. Zeichman was surrounded by a cluster of determined looking witches and wizards before the front door, which was now obstructed by an array of queer looking instruments and ominous weapons. She noticed a number of familiar faces: Remus, an older yet unmistakable Kingsley Shaklebolt and that kindly motherly woman with red hair clutching the arm of her husband and looking painfully expectant. A few young men who could only have been her sons surrounded her: flaming red hair and hardened expressions.

Lily noted a curious spangled band upon each of the members' arms: "HS". Was it some display of their ideologies? It was only then that Lily realised the extent of what they were getting into: a war. Weapons and grim faces…

Harry threaded his way through the throng until he was beside Zeichman. Whispered in his ear. Zeichman faced him, folded his arms imperiously. "Ok, people. The signal will be going off shortly. I want fast reaction ties. Any dawdlers will be left behind. We will station ourselves outside the fortress, and, with the help of the local villagers and hopefully Ministry backing, we will gain entry before tomorrow night. Everything clear?" Faces set, resilient, envisaging solid victory. But victory of what? "Ok, any odd jobs are to be completed in the next 10 minutes, got it? Now go, Mr. Potter and I have some secret affairs to discuss". Murmuring in a tough, defiant manner, the small crowd dispersed. Lily grabbed James' hand and crept further along the stair landing as to position themselves better to hear the conversation.

"Secret business, eh?"

"Just listen to me Potter. We have Ministry backing. Happy?"

"Not really."

Well, you should be. This means we can't fail. Icia's men are tough, but we can overcome them, and You-Know-Who's people are easily licked. But I need you to make a promise, Potter."

"Which is?"

"No heroics. I hear you have a fondness for them and frankly we can't afford to be heroic on this mission. This is make or break time Potter. So no wandering off on your own, no acts of retribution to old pals of yours or your parents, no trying to get your name into the Daily Prophet. Do I make myself clear?"

Harry surveyed him sharply for a moment then spoke in clipped tones: "I know full well that the only reason the Ministry is backing is because of me. If we hadn't collaborated, they would simply view your Heighland Star as a rebellious militia intent on garnering glory and becoming the heroes of the Second War. So, I'll keep my promise of no heroics only if you can keep yours."

Hands extended, shaking on it viciously.

Then, Lily felt an ungodly intense heat, a fire ripping through the air. Scalding light blinded her. She saw the searing fireball tearing into the house, felt its incinerating fury lick at her body, her skin blistering. Terrible screams, an acrid smell of smoke engulfing her, wrapping around her, smothering her. Debris hurtling everywhere. Confused pandemonium of blundering bodies, lit by the manic glare of the fire. She was breathing smoke. They were screaming so loudly. James yelling, pulling her close against him. Crashing to the floor. Panicked lungs spluttering on smoke. Then, everything suddenly became silent. James' dead weight pinning her. Each breath made her dizzy as heavy dark smoke clogged up her brain. Darkness clouded her vision. Standing above her, she saw the blurry outline of a cruel face, ice white, long haired, glittering clothes untouched by the billowing smoke. It smiled, teeth gleaming through the smoke. Lily gave up. Her vision clouded black as the ground opened beneath her and she slid into darkness.

BAHAHAHAHAHA! MWAHAHAHA! BHAVAVAVAVA! (and all other different arrays of evil laughs) see you next time filthy monkeys! xoxoxoxox

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